Dark Melody
by MelodicCrescendo
Summary: In the sequel to Melody of the Past, Danielle is living her dream. After three years she has become an actress, model, and humanitarian. But even with everything she dreamed about at her finger tips, she can't help but think about her life at the Opera. How will Erik and Danielle find each other? What has happened to Erik after all this time? Who are these people? Find out here!
1. Chapter 1

I swiped the red across my lips. I looked into the mirror and made a kissy face. The red looked trashy on me, hilariously clashing with the green eyeshadow and bright pink blush that was carelessly drawn onto my face. Standing in the make-up aisle at Local Grown I played with the colors, planning to walk around town and do my daily business while pretending nothing was wrong. My brothers were probably wondering where I was now. Serves them right. When they stuck me in a room sitting around and doing nothing, they should have known I'd get bored, and they know what I do when I get bored by now, if they have a problem, then that's their problem.

"Danielle, there you are, we were looking all over town for you. What did you do to your face?" I jumped at my brother's voice behind me.

"Nothing, what did you do to yours? OH! What now?" He frowned at me, giving a disapproving look.

"You got a mustache, you dumb stack a rocks; you have a shoot in two hours, do you want to be the mustached woman covergirling her way around the studio?" My brother, Donnie, used his hands to highlight his point, waving them animatedly in the air.

"Jesus, calm your tits, and let's go then." I walked out of the store with him following behind me.

"Great, let's get home so you can wash your face and you can get your shit together. They'll do your makeup there and give you what they want you to wear. It's not anything hard, just a magazine spread for the fall fashions for GAP." Donnie looked down, texting something.

"GAP? I hate GAP, you hate GAP, why am I doing this?" Donnie clicked the unlock button on his car remote and I climbed into the passengers side door.

"Because they're giving us a lot of money and free clothes whenever we go in, no questions asked." He pulled out of the parking lot.

"Why would they ask questions?"

"Incase you wanted to buy shit for your friends."

"Oh. Sweet. I guess I can suffer through this for the greater good." I let out a long sigh and dramatically placed my hand on my forehead. "Still, GAP is too expensive for its' own good, how do they stay in business?"

"Rich, upper class, white women."

"Sounds about right." I watched the scenery from our home town, Clementine Bay, go by. The town buried in the hills with the ocean, large and beautiful on the other side. The sea was raging, the sky was dark with heavy gray clouds, casting everything in a beautiful light with the sun filtering through the clouds. The weather was weird here, it could be cloudy and cold in the middle of summer and warm everywhere else. Lucky us. Despite the town being named after one of the saddest nursery rhymes ever, there was no place that was more beautiful on the days it was warm. Everything stayed green for the most part, there was hardly any dead grass and, even when the trees were bare, I know there were no trees more beautiful than the ones I had grown up with. We went up the long driveway to our house and parked the car next to my other brother, Mike's, 1999 range rover. I pulled myself out of the car by the hand hold and walked inside. The day was still pretty warm so the door was open. Mike was in the kitchen with his laptop on the counter. He turned away from the screen when I walked in.

"The hell happened to your face? Lose a fight with Him?" I rolled my eyes at the PowerPuff Girls reference and dumped my bag on the counter next to him and went over to the sink to wash off my face.

"I'm sorry, did I just fall into 1999? Or are you the one that's stuck there?" I rubbed the hand soap against my face and stuck my hands under the faucet, bringing water to my face before the soap could get in my eyes.

"Oh, you're so funny. With your jokes and shit. Really." Mike deadpanned back at me. He was good at sounding like a know it all jackass. I wiped my eyes on a dish towel and made a face at him that he didn't see as he had turned back to his work.

"What are you working on now?" I went into the fridge and pulled out a pudding cup.

"New book, it's about a doctor in World War II who storms the beaches of Normandy and ends up saving a platoon of German soldiers who end up helping them liberate Le Havre." Mike wrote books in his spare time, usually historical fictions. He was pretty good, it raked in a lot of money, kept us afloat while he was in med school and Donnie was shadowing at hospitals; though to keep out of the limelight, he went by the name, John Harrison. That was fun after the new Star Trek movie.

"Keep at it. Donnie can take me to the shoot," I said. Mike closed his laptop and drank the rest of whatever it was in the cup next to him. My bet was cold coffee, if the look on his face told me anything.

"Nah, I'll go too, your fans my try to mob you again." I rolled my eyes.

"That happened all of once after a show, it doesn't happen all the time and you know it. I bet you just want to meet girls." I winked at him. He rolled his eyes to the sky before looking back at me.

"No." With that he walked away. Something changed in him when our mother died, he had always been close to both of them, both mom and dad, he was always their little baby while Donnie and me had always been more independent. He became so quiet and withdrawn, he stopped talking to his friends and isolated himself from everyone besides us. Mike threw himself into books, trying to know everything about anything, he has been going to see a therapist for the last fourteen years. After a while, he opened up again, but he never became my happy-go-lucky brother again. Still, while I was in the hospital as a child he made sure to visit me every day after school and tell me stories about little animals and people with their roles reversed, I told him he could turn them into childrens' books and he did. He became a published author at the age of fourteen. Even though people liked him and he'd had no shortage of girls asking him out he never brought home a girl who was anything more than a friend.

"Come on, children, let's go!" Why the fuck was Donnie still at home anyway? He was like, thirty four, and he still didn't have a steady girlfriend. It was my fault. If they didn't have to take care of me they could go out and get lives. I had to stop thinking like that. I lightly slapped my face and went out to the car. I wonder how Erik is? It only seemed like a little bit later that we were pulling into the parking lot outside a big studio building. I unhooked my seat belt and opened the door. It looked like this was going to be a long - and annoying - day.

"Wait for us. Jesus, you say you don't want to do it and now you're practically running to the building." Donnie joked at he and Mike got out of the car. I made a face at them.

"I just want it to be over sooner rather than later, now let's not be late." Ten minutes later we were swept into wardrobe and Donnie was chatting up some wardrobe designer and Mike was inspecting the lights and cameras. 'You never know when one might be faulty and fall on you.' Yeah, totally, like I wouldn't be able to take care of that. "There now, don't you look beautiful?" I focused on myself in the mirror. I can say that I did look like someone actually put time into my makeup rather than doing it in ten minutes in the morning pretty half assed.

"Yes, thank you for taking the time to do it so well." Only about an hour on hair and makeup, but who was counting? She looked at me strangely.

"Of course, it's my job, why wouldn't I do my best?"

"Eh, some people get tired and some just plain stop caring so they do a half assed job." I got out of the chair and stripped out of my regular clothes and pulled on the shirt and pants I was going to have to wear for the shoot. Wow, these jeans fit me really well. Too bad all their jeans are sixty nine dollars, not including tax. Hey, I'm cheap and I hate paying for things I can get for twenty bucks somewhere else. GAP knows how to make you pay for quality.

"Well, thank you for appreciating my work," the nameless makeup artist said.

"No problem." I heard the photographer call my name. I had met her when I came in, I'm pretty sure her name was Mary Dickon. She didn't seem like one of those crazy photographers that like to put their models in crazy death trap things. "I'm coming!" I hustled over to the shooting area.

"Great, you're here just in time! I want you to meet your co worker, Bram Donnelly, Bram, this is Danielle." A (very, very) handsome man came from the other direction, tugging on the cuff of his sleeve, letting the long brown lion's mane of hair fall over his shoulders. Wow, he's tear-your-clothes-off beautiful. I bet he's an asshole. A beautiful asshole. He looked up at me with rich brown eyes, he must be some form or Spanish, and fave me a wide, white smile that had me digging my nails into my hands so as not to look away.

"Hello Danielle, I've heard so much about you. I'm quite a big fan." He extended his hand to me and I reached to shake it. Wow, bad handshake, it felt like shaking a glove full of pudding. He let out a laugh. "Oh my, your hand is so small, if I held it to hard I bet I would bruise it!" What the fuck? "Maybe you've heard of me, I'm a recurring character on Resurrection." Oh God, he's one of those.

"Hey, hey, hey, hands off my sister pal, unless you want a black eye!" Donnie pushed his way in front of me, using all six feet of him to be intimidating. "We didn't agree to this, you said a shoot with Dani, you never mentioned this second party!" Donnie was giving Mary the evil eye. Bram shoved Donnie in the chest, pushing him back. I stepped out of the way so they could have their little dog fight, once you set Donnie off he would mess you up, he's never lost a fight in his life. Bram curled his lip up and looked at Donnie up and down before giving a smug smile.

"Sorry, but I don't fight with pregnant women." I let my mouth fall open. He called my brother fat. My captain-of-the-football-team-in-sophomore-year brother fat. Ohh, he's gonna get kiiilled. Looks like Der Tod is going to be landing any moment.

"What did you call me?" Donnie's eyes went black. Any time now.

"Pregnant. Oh, I'd watch it if I were you, anger's bad for the baby, might induce labor." Mike had come to stand by our side, running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, he'd always been a calm person, compared to me and Donnie, I could tell he was getting ready to drag Donnie away by his ear. Donnie, on the other hand, was getting into his football player mode, hunching his shoulders forward and lifting his arms, getting ready to tackle Bram to the ground, and as much as I wanted to see that, I knew it shouldn't happen.

"I can't work with him!" Every set of eyes turned to me. "This ass just called my brother fat, the brother that paid for my food, clothing, and hospital bills since I was four years old. All while going to college on a football scholarship. No one disrespects my family. Let's go." Reluctantly, Donnie shifted out of danger mode and turned to leave. Bram looked in shock.

"You're going to leave the shoot? It was your brother that started this all." He looked like a petulant child.

"Yeah. You had the choice to defend your space to him, but instead you insulted him. He doesn't trust you, why should he? He's never met you. He's trying to protect me because he cares about me, what's your excuse?" He stood there speechless. Mary was beside herself.

"Oh, please don't go, we have a deadline! If we don't have a least a dozen pictures for the magazine by the end of the day I'll be in so much trouble! Is there anything I can do to make you stay?"

"You can make Bram here apologize to my brother." Mary turned to Bram and gave him a look. Bram ground his teeth together.

"I apologize for my actions." He ground out. Donnie looked too smug for his own good.

"No problem, Tiny." Oh God, can't he just let shit go? I rolled my eyes, praying he wouldn't take the bait.

"Tiny? I'm an inch shorter than you at most!" Donnie grinned wide. I looked at Mike Praying that he would get Donnie away.

"Yeah, but I'm twice as big as you, I could use you as a toothpick." Donnie flexed his muscles in his typical 'Charles Atlas' pose. I saw the ropes of muscle in Bram's arm tense, looks like he was going to take his chances and hit Donnie. Mike chose that time to grab Donnie by the ear before he could cause much more trouble.

"Let's go brother dearest, Dani bailed you out already don't make her look any worse than you already have." Mike tugged Donnie away by his ear, Donnie complaining loudly the entire time. I had to keep myself from rubbing my eyes.

"Idiot. Complete, utter idiot." I crossed my arms against my chest. Everyone was still looking to where Mike was marching with Donnie in tow. "Let's get this finished before my brothers decide to come back and tag team the entire crew. Shall we?" I walked over to where the cameras were pointing. "How do you want me?" Mary looked from me to the door where my brothers had exited.

"Do they… do they do that often?"

"Yeah, they're both like big gorillas when it comes to protecting me against men, that's why they were so mad at you for not mentioning Bram." I ran my hand through my hair and looked through the gap my arm and shoulder made, directly into a camera. Whoever manned it snapped the photo.

"Why?" Was all Mary could manage.

"The last man I was close to tried to rip my organs out through the man made incision in my stomach," I lifted my shirt for a moment before pulling it down again, "what would you do if your own father did that to your baby sister? Would you trust strangers?" Everyone shuffled awkwardly. "Come on, I thought these pictures had to be taken by the end of today?" Bram walked over to my side and I looked at Mary expectantly.

"Uh, okay. Okay, you two are a couple in your home and you are just about to go off to work and you trying to savor the last few moments of time you have before Bram has to go." Bram looked over to me and wagged his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay." Bram put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head, I smiled up at him, like he was being goofy. The next one Bram pulled me up so I had my legs around his waist and we looked into each others' eyes. Next, I pinched his cheeks and made a kissy face at him. We moved sets into a kitchen make up. I handed him a cup of fake coffee, we pretended to be in love and the final photos were taken of me kissing him on the cheek as he went off to work.

"That was great! Wonderful job, everybody!" I clapped my hands together and stretched them above my head. Great, time to go see what the two lumps were doing for the entire time I was working. I bet they were sitting in the car the entire time. Mike was reprimanding Donnie and Donnie got bored of listening to him so he started playing a game on his phone while Mike gave up and went back to typing. Yup, my family.

"Well, I'm going home to take a nap, later. Send my check in the mail." I began stripping off the button up shirt and jacket they had given me for the shoot and went into the room where I had gotten dressed. I pulled on my own clothes and went for the door.

"Hey." I turned to see Bram coming towards me in the most sinful, ass hugging jeans I had ever seen. God, even off the floor he looks like a model.

"Sup?" I looked up at him, what a beautiful man. But I already have someone better waiting for me.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot, how about I take you out for dinner?" Oh. Lucky me.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." I smiled at him apologetically. His eyes went tight. He smiled wider.

"You don't think there was a spark between us when we were having those photos taken?" My eyebrows pushed together. How conceited was he?

"Uh… no. Look, I'm spoken for. It was nice meeting you." I turned and walked away as fast as I could. I got to where the car was parked and, lo and behold, I was right. Donnie was hunched over his game and Mike was reclining and typing something of his ipad. I climbed in the back. "Hey, let's go, I wanna be home now."

"Fine, fine." Donnie scored a few more points at some stupid game before shutting it off and putting the key in the ignition. Mike pulled his back rest up and turned his pad off. Soon we were on the road again.

"How was the shoot?" Mike kept his eyes on the road. He gets car sick easily.

"Pretty good, but that Bram was a creep. He came up to me after the shoot and asked me to dinner, said 'didn't you feel a spark' uhh, no, bitch, I didn't." I mimicked Bram's voice horribly. Donnie growled in the front seat.

"I knew I should've decked him when I did, what a creep on legs." I kicked the back of his seat.

"No, you just wanted to get a rise out of him and then he called you pregnant and hurt your baby feelings, so you through a hissy fit." Mike snorted, trying to hide a laugh.

"Whatever." Donnie let it drop, we were back in Clementine and we were climbing the stairs to our house.

"I'm going to take a nap, call me for dinner." Donnie grunted in agreement and Mike went into his office. I shucked off my clothes and crawled into bed. The sun was setting now and the room was almost dark. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to Erik.

Everything was dark and dead. The ground was black, like there had been a fire only moments before, but the dirt was hard packed, no ash rose from it. A haunting melody filled the air and, like a puppet on strings, I began to dance. I dipped and jumped lifelessly to the hopeless tune, my body, contorting in on itself, spinning on my toes before something touched my shoulder and I fell, like my strings were cut, into a mass on the ground. My eyes flew open and I shot up in bed. My room was completely dark and the clock read seven thirty. Donnie should be calling us for dinner in a minute. My mind replayed that dream and that dark melody haunted me through dinner.

Well there you have it. I'm so sorry it took six months, but I needed time away from writing. As soon as I realized it had been so long I kicked my butt into gear and wrote this in two days. The sequel to Melody of the Past. I hope you still care about these characters. I hope you liked this chapter and there will be more to come! MC


	2. Chapter 2

I opened my eyes. I had not slept, but the hours had passed in quiet solitude as I sat at my organ. How had so many years passed since she died? My Danielle. My light. The only one who had looked at me with eyes of love. What I would give just to see her cheeks dimple in her beautiful full smile once more, just once. The image of her face, still fresh in my mind, quickly changed to the horrible image of the last time I had seen her. I had sat there, helpless as her veins ruptured and she bled out, only five paces from where I sat hunched over, trying to compose an opera in her name. Yes, I had the horrible parts down, the times she left me, the self loathing of letting her go, the heartbreak of watching her die. I would never let the peons of Paris witness the life of my love, choosing to create a story similar in ways to ours. I looked down at the notes. Here was the opening, where the girl is singing by herself in the woods and the demon first hears her. No, this will never do! I crushed the failed attempt into a ball in my hands and tossed it away, it was horrid! Could I not do justice to the woman I loved?!

"Such long years

Living a mere facade of life

Such long years

Wasting my time on broken toys," I swiped all the compositions I had done onto the floor. What good were they?

"In my mind I hear melodies pure and unearthly

But I find I can't give them a voice without you." I turned to one of the few things I was proud of; a large oil painting of the love of my life, within a gold frame Danielle smiled down at me. She stood in the pure white dress she wore as Evangeline in Hannibal all that time ago. I had drawn her full body, her eyes made to look as if she were looking straight at the person looking at her. Her hair was a waterfall down her back, held with no pins. Her hands clasped over her heart.

"My Danielle, my Danielle,

Lost and gone, lost and gone." I stumbled away from the picture, to see it in full. I turned and walked to the alcove where everything dedicated to Christine had been thrown out, in favor of my love. I looked from the sketches to paintings, to the clothes she had left behind, to the wedding dress on the mannequin, remodeled in her image.

"The day starts

The day ends

Time crawls by," I looked at her, only her.

"Night steals in pacing the floor

The moments creep

Yet I can't bear to sleep

'Til I hear you sing," what a hopeless want.

"And weeks pass

And months pass

Seasons fly," years, years without her.

"Still you don't walk through the door

And in a haze I count the silent days

'Til I hear you sing once more." My gaze fell to the panting of Danielle and I, I had done it in a moment of whimsy. A scene of if I had been allowed in heaven, Danielle running towards me in a white, sleeveless robe, her arms outstretched with breathtaking white wings unfurled from her back and running to me. Me running to her, my arms ready to finally hold her again, feel the smoothness and the tangles in her hair, feel her small body clasped to mine as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"And sometimes at night time

I dream that you are there

But wake holding nothing

But the empty air." That was where I forfeited the right to sleep, preferring to pass out from exhaustion.

"And years come

And years go

Time runs dry," I knew I would never see her again, my crimes in this life prevented it.

"Still I ache down to the core

My broken soul

Can't be alive and whole

'Til I hear you sing once more." I pushed away from the image, I would never walk in the fields of heaven with her, I knew. I made my way back to the main room, clutching my heart, which seemed to be breaking.

"And music, your music

It teases at my ear

I turn and it fades away

And you're not here." I tried to block out the sounds of the jeers in the crowed but they got louder and louder, I pressed my palms into my ears to stop the noise.

"Let hopes pass

Let dreams pass

Let them die," useless, useless, murderer!

"Without you, what are they for?

I'll always feel

No more than halfway real

'Til I hear you sing once more." I tried to physically hold myself together, clutching my rolling stomach and aching heart. Nothing will help, no one can save me, there is only Death. My breath came harsh and fast. How dare I sully her memory with the love of a demon, the devotion of a blind man. For what angel surrounded with the beauty of heaven would choose an hideous beast over it? The soft patter of feet pulled me from my latest wallow in self pity. When had I curled on the ground? I must be getting more dramatic than I remember, or it was the exhaustion. I didn't have the energy to get up, make myself presentable.

"Erik?" It was my little Meg. The only ray of light left in my life. "Are you alright?" Her small hand found its way onto my shoulder, gently shaking it. I hid my face from her in shame. How could I let her see me like this?

"Forgive me, Meg." I balled my hands into fists, ashamed of myself.

"Erik, it's alright I understand. We all do, we all lost her. I don't remember my father, I feel poorly that I couldn't have more time with him, but I do not miss him like mother misses him, how I miss Danielle. This is the first time I have lost someone I cared so much and I know your pain." I didn't deserve her, God knew I didn't deserve Meg. I pulled myself up from the ground and seated myself on the bench again, gazing at the portrait again. Meg sat next to me and rested her head in my shoulder. "Tell me a story of her."

"You knew her as well as I did, petite Meg." I closed my eyes tight to avoid crying.

"Not with you. Some people are entirely different when they're around people they love."

"Not Danielle. She would never change or hide any part of her personality for anyone, beside her rage, she would always try to hide how angry she got most of the time, trying always to be kind. I, too often, pushed her over the edge. I pushed her so far once, after you decided to sleep on the stage. I caught her as she went to take a shower and I hit her," Meg covered her mouth, obviously remembering the incident, "and she hit me back. She smashed the back of my head into the stair over there," I nodded in the direction. "And I deserved it. It took everything to try and win her back."

"Were you already together?"

"No. I had deluded myself into believing that I loved Christine, I never saw what I had until it was too late. It was psychotic to think everything would go back to normal if I abducted her and stole her away from the opera. I didn't deserve her, and she died there, cold, on the bank of the lake." I pulled away, going to stand in the spot Danielle had disappeared in my arms, dead and gone, nothing but clothes and memories left behind. I made to immortalize her image in everything, while I was repainting the opera, where the cherubs were clustered, I put her holding the little baby angels, them clinging onto her long white dress and her looking to the stage. Where the paintings of the gods after a long revel, all sitting or whispering on the ceiling in the main hall I painted with them a small woman, lying on the ground in sleep. In almost every room of the opera that called for a group scene I drew her teasing, smiling face. Almost as if it were a hunt for her face, though many halls had more than one painting in it, not all of them had her in them, that's what made the five that did so special. All so beautiful.

The Opera Populaire had been burned from the stage to a bit of the entrance, nothing so severe that it could not be fixed. Those two idiots had jumped at the chance to sell the place, didn't even ask for a name, just that they got the money in full. I left most of the face for Antoinette to do, but I made sure to handle the paperwork, I could hardly ask her to do anymore than what she had been doing. We had to hire almost an entirely new ballet core, most of the men stayed and the girls who had nowhere else to go stayed, but that was few. It was a long process to get all the new dancers together and have the repair work done at the same time and only having so many people in my employment already, there was only Antoinette, Monsieur Reyer who were able to help with the casting and Meg, who now was the Prima Ballerina as well as her mothers' assistant. The kitchen and the flies crews came back with the promise of money, they hardly had a care for their lives until they were in risk. I worked tirelessly after the workers fixed my stage to make the beautiful art come back to life. I think my fingers bled at some point and Antoinette had to ask Meg to take me home. So many memories in this opera, so many things I need to forget.

"Erik?" Meg's small voice came from behind me, tentative. I turned from where my gaze fell on the opposite shore to where Meg stood by the organ.

"Forgive me, Meg. I am so used to being alone that I sometimes forget when other people are there." She walked to me and placed her small hand on my arm.

"It's not your fault, you should go to bed and try to get some sleep, I know you haven't been sleeping well, and only when mama and I are telling you so." I shook my head.

"If you are here that means it is early still and I have work I must finish. I must choose the next opera that we are to perform. And I do have many to choose from. Then I must continue the paperwork you mother gave me earlier." I knew Meg was looking at the circles under my eye, I hardly wanted to make her feel bad that she couldn't get me to bed.

"Please. Erik, you look as if you have been up for days and days on end. You will die if you don't get enough sleep or pass out while you are doing something more important than paperwork. What would we do if you fainted while on a tour of the catwalks? A stage hand would find you and turn you in, and there would be nothing mama or I could do about it. I don't want to lose you." Meg's eyes were wide and innocent as the day she brought me flowers as a child. I put away the pen and ink I had pulled from my cluttered desk with a sigh.

"Alright Meg, I will do as you ask, but I can't promise you that I will fall asleep immediately and wake up tomorrow as if I slept like a child every night. I may just lie in bed until it is deemed an appropriate hour to wake up at and begin my work again." Her eyes lit up as she won the small battle. Meg pushed me towards the stair that led to my room.

"Wonderful, I will wake you tomorrow with breakfast. Do not think for a second I will leave you before your plate is clean. Both mama and I have noticed you do not eat."

"I never ate," I pointed out. She waved her hand in the air, as if to brush the words away.

"Never the less, I am making sure to try to build up your strength again."

"I am already strong." Now Meg tried to look cross, it only make her look like a child with a pouting lip.

"We are not making this into an argument, Erik, you know what you're doing to your body if harmful, just because Danielle is in heaven now it doesn't mean that you can let yourself deteriorate and die just because you are sad. She would not have wanted that, not at all." Meg's voice was soft, and I knew she was right, I was always trying to provoke the people around me, trying to get them to lash out so I could lash back. I was always trying to find little ways to release my anger at the world for taking the one person I treasured more than my opera itself.

"You are right Meg, as you always are. I will go to bed now, and so must you." She smiled back at me.

"I know. I'll see you in the morning." Meg went up the tunnel leading to the outer opera. I turned back to my bedroom after Meg disappeared around the corner and pulled the curtain over the doorway before stripping out of my clothes and pulling on my night gown. I took a long look at the photo of Danielle dressed in her costume for Hannibal, the one she had given me all those years ago before turning the lamp on low and closing my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

I looked around me. Everything was dark and dead. The trees were sticks on the ash on the ground. I wonder if I did this? Did I light what was once an obviously beautiful forest a flame and burned it to ash, as I did to my opera the night Danielle died. The broken world sent shivers to my spine and I collapsed to one knee under the strain of the pain.

I heard the soft crunch of feet and lifted my head, desperate to find the body that belonged to the feet, I needed to know what had happened here. I searched the barren landscape until my eyes fell on a body. The arms and legs bare, the back covered in the long hair I could recognize anywhere. Danielle stood with her back to me, bare to this empty world. I knew it was a dream when I didn't turn away from the nakedness of her, my eyes seemed to be glued to her.

A slow, haunting melody filled the air and, like a body lacking bones, Danielle began to dance. The moves she did seemed to be impossible and possible all at once. Beautiful, as I always remembered her. It looked as if someone controlled her, forcing her to dance the dance of the dead, maybe she was a marionette holding onto the notes of this dark melody. I don't know from where but I gained the strength to pull myself up and stumble towards her. Danielle, only a breath away. When I went to put my hand on her shoulder, it only connected with her skin for a moment before she dropped to the ground, like her legs couldn't support her weight anymore. I dove to catch her, but her body never hit the ground, she was simply gone, just as she had come, just as she had the first time I had seen her. I let myself sit on the hard packed earth, put my head in my hands and weep.

I woke to the same orange light as I had gone to sleep with. Obviously Meg was still asleep, as she was not there to wake me yet, but I couldn't go back to sleep now, the melody from the dream still bounced in my mind, as if it begged to be played by my violin. I quickly dressed myself and went to write it down before I forgot it. Satisfied that I had gotten it all out, I picked up my violin and began to play. The same hopeless tune floated into the air, making the dark world I lived in even sadder than it was. The music was sad and beautiful, just what I had needed for my new Opera. The only thing I needed now were the words and it would be ready. I continued to play until Meg came to bring me breakfast and I could not tell how long it had been since I started, hours, minutes, seconds, I didn't know and I didn't care. I finally became one step closer to immortalizing my love, and that was all that mattered.

**There's chapter two! For those of you wondering no, it's not going to come out like Love Never Dies, I just think that some of the songs are appropriate for the storyline. I hope you enjoyed it, remember to fav and review, Erik Belongs to Leroux and Webber, Til I Hear You Sing belongs to Webber, and Danielle belongs to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

I hadn't been able to sleep all night, I rubbed my eyes, trying to get them to focus. It was about seven in the morning and I didn't have to do anything until the afternoon, so I guess I'll take a shower. I never really liked morning showers, it always felt awkward pulling on clothes after drying off, it made my pants feel like they were too small for me or something, not to mention that it left my hair wet for hours and it never really seemed attractive to go to school with wet hair. Now I'm years out of school. Four years ago I went to see the The Phantom of the Opera at the Royal Albert Hall and found Erik. A sharp pain stung at my heart, I rubbed my chest with the side of my thumb, trying to ease the sting. there was nothing I could do about it. Not now anyway, I don't have the power for it. I forced myself to push the bad thought away trying to focus on getting my towels and getting to the bathroom and wiping away the grime of today. I took a deep breath and wrapped myself in the worn purple towels and walked to the bathroom.

I closed and locked the door and threw the towels over the side of the shower, on the far side of the tub so the water spraying wouldn't get them. I waited a bit for the water to warm up before getting in. I got my hair wet and rubbed shampoo into it before letting my face go under. I grabbed the vanilla face wash and scrubbed. I let myself think of the months after my surgery, the bed rest and rehabilitation, letting the cut heal again. It had taken so long, my friends had been so supportive, they pushed me in a wheelchair to, from and around school all year, even going to prom alone so they could be with me. I walked graduation by myself though, accepting my diploma with no help. The grad party had been great, though a safe and sober night, it was fun to dance in the middle of everyone.

Months later I got a call from Andrew Webber himself telling me that he wanted me on board his new production of Cats. He wanted me to come to an audition in New York for Broadway. I almost dropped the phone. I couldn't speak for a long time and I was pretty sure that Andrew could hear me hyperventilating on the other end of the line. I hope he thought that was endearing or funny. My voice wobbled as I thanked him and got the time and date four months later. I told Donnie to book a ticket immediately. Mike insisted on going with me this time, not trusting the people of New York. I told him he watched too much supernatural new york tv shows.

Still I was touched, Mike hates to go on airplanes, really hates them, more than anything else in the world. He can perform a double bypass surgery, but the airplanes really get to him, he gets dizzy and faint and starts to breath heavy, on one occasion he threw up in the barf bag in the pocket of the seat. I felt horrible for him, he was so embarrassed. Donnie death glared at anyone who glanced in his direction and ordered some Ginger Ale to soothe his stomach. The people around us let us get off the plane with no argument after that.

I almost couldn't believe that we made it in one piece, after touching down Mike didn't look so green anymore and drove us to our hotel, yelling at all the bad drivers on the road, and I remembered why neither Donnie or I let him drive at home. Not that it helped much, he would still comment on how terrible the driver was, asking up how the driver ever made it passed the written test.

"It's like they're all Spongebob!" He screamed. I tried to keep my mouth shut, Mike got pretty road ragey and I hated having to deal with it. So I ignored it. It was kind of funny watching him lose his shit. We had arrived the day before the audition. I was glad for that, if I had gotten directly off the plane and gone to the audition I would have fainted at the sight of…

BANG

I jumped two feet in the air and tossed the bar of Dove soap behind me as my hands and arms contracted in shock.

"OW! What the hell?" I rubbed the water out of my eyes as Donnie's groggy voice came from the other side of the door. "Who locked the door?"

"I'm in the shower moron, can't you hear the water running?" I yelled out to him over the noise of rushing water.

"No! You think I actually waste brain power on the outside noise before I blast my body with cold to hot water?" I groaned, it was too early for deep thought and jokes. I had stayed up all night and I was still tired, why can't everyone leave me alone today?

"Shut up, I'm staying in here until the hot water runs out, go boil some water and sit in a tub in the living room."

"Just hurry up!" He called back.

"Go soak in a cup of coffee or something, you're not getting me out of here!" I snapped at him. He groaned and rammed into the door again.

"Come on, you never get up this early, give me my morning routine, go get some cereal or whatever you do in the morning. What is it? Oh yeah, you sleep and leave me to my shower in peace!" I didn't respond so he grumbled and went back to his room to go back to sleep. Well, my shower was officially ruined. I finished scrubbing the conditioner out of my hair and turned the water off, wrapped my hair in a towel and covered my body with another.

"Bathroom's all yours, ya fat-head jerk!" I called behind me as I walked back to my bedroom. The shower hadn't made me any less tired, but it helped relax me and now that it wasn't so dark out I felt more comfortable than I had all night, trying to distract myself from the dream I'd had. What did it mean? Who was there with me and why didn't I see them before? What was that song? I'd never heard it before in my life, and I doubt that my mind was ever that talented enough to ever write a melody like that. Erik was the one who could write melodies. Erik. I bit the inside of my lip and tried to suppress the sting in my heart and the twist in my stomach. I missed him so much, and he thinks I'm dead and I can't even tell him I'm alright. What I wouldn't give to be able to see him, just once, so I could tell him I was alright and that I was fighting to get back to him.

My life now was so boring without him, everything that should be exciting or fun was a little lackluster because I knew it would always be better if he was there and I hated myself for thinking that because I hated feeling like I needed a man to make my life better and when did that become who I am? Well, when was the last time I let myself have a good sulk? And it wasn't like I had anything planned for anytime before noon and it's, like, six whatever in the morning. I sat on my bed and tried to keep my mind, unsuccessfully, off Erik. I just wanted to scream until I couldn't breathe and everything just stopped. I guess I was a little bitter. I ignored the urge to go on the internet and search around for something twisted to entertain me. I dried my body and rubbed the towel through my hair a few times, trying to get it as dry as I could and I brushed it out. It fell down my back and touched the sheets I sat on. I felt proud to have such long hair, I'd always thought it was beautiful, maybe because most Disney princesses had long hair. Like Meg. Well, Meg isn't really a princess, but she marries a God, so I guess that's the equivalent. Whatever, her hair was bitchin'. I closed my eyes and rested the palms of my hands against them, propping myself up. I took a few deep breaths, where did I ever get by sulking anyway? It's not like it made me feel better, it just brought up a bunch of really crappy feelings that I'd rather ignore. I wish I were Vulcan sometimes, they were always in perfect control of their emotions and it would make life so much easier for humans.

I rolled onto my stomach, letting my wet hair stick to my back, drying, but raising goosebumps at the coldness. I stretched on the sheets, yawning. The soft ocean gray light filtered in through the clouds and cast a light around the room that was chasing the shadows away. My eyelids felt heavier and heavier every time I tried to open my eyes. I crawled under my blanket and lifted my hair so it wouldn't get caught under me. I curled onto one side and looked out the window to our back yard and the woods beyond. I closed my eyes and hoped that I would dream of Erik, but that never happened.

I woke up hours later with my hair dry and laying on my stomach. I rolled over to look at my clock. Eleven. well, that's a good five hours sleep right there. I got out of bed and brushed my hair and dressed, I didn't bother with the makeup, I knew that at the shoot today they would want to do my makeup for me anyway. What was I supposed to model for today? I forgot sometimes, after all they only wanted my body, it never really took much brain power. I opened the drawer in my desk and took out my date planner.

Victoria's Secret. This should be fun. Now I remember, Donnie had a fit when I told him that I'd agreed to it and he didn't want perverts to be able to see my body, but I told him about the strong, sexy, fierce slogan they were going for and it was about strength and they thought I was a good candidate. There were also men modeling and there wouldn't be anything that wasn't already seen at the beach. I'd heard that they got Cher to agree to it as well, and if Cher was going to do it, it was stupid not to. What could go wrong? The worst they could do is put me in a push-up bra. And my chest wasn't even that small; if they ask I'll just request another one. Donnie still didn't like it, but the pay was good and the gift card to their stores was pretty awesome as well.

"Yo! You asleep or something? You need to eat before you parade your body around a studio, so hurry up and get food in your belly, we leave in a half hour!" Donnie sounded like he was still mad that I called him a fat-headed jerk. I guess I should say sorry. But why should I apologize for saying something when I was tired and grumpy? He didn't know, I guess, but who tries to throw someone out of the shower? A fat-head, that's who.

"What's wrong with you, don't you have more than one volume setting? I'll be down in a minute!" I scooted to the side of my bed and swung my legs over the side. I opened the drawer in my desk and sifted through for my hairbrush. I parted my hair down the middle and brushed each side trying to get the sleep knots out. I wonder what they're going to do my hair? Modeling is pretty weird sometimes. Crap, what was the time? It takes about forty five to get through the traffic into the city, and up Van Ness to where we needed to go. When I accepted the offer I thought it was going to be a short commercial, but it was going to be one of those shorts, like the commercials for Captain Morgan, but about empowerment. It was supposed to start out with us sweltering in our respective scenes, then ripping off our clothes and knocking out the man that was supposed to be a symbol of objectifying women. First, Cher would be coming down a runway after a concert, pushing photographers out of the way she stripps off the heavy coat that she was wearing and walking proudly through the crowd outside in lingerie, before turning to look at the camera and saying "Strong".

I think they said that The person who was doing sexy was a well known model, but I didn't really know her, since I never really read magazines. Hilarious, right? I model for them and I have no idea what I'm up against, I only ever buy the magazines that I'm in so I can look back and laugh that I'd actually done it. Anyway, I think her name was Jenna Eddies and she would be at a photo shoot (ha, shoot within a shoot) turn around and say "Sexy" before a guy steps up to her, trying to pick her up and she'll toss him out of the way, walk to her dressing room, grin at the camera, and close the door.

For my shoot, it will be me looking at the camera, my face in the full frame saying "Fierce" Before going up to bow onstage in a stuffy dress. Some guy is going to step in front of me and block me. While he's bowing, I get to kick him off the stage and bow, before I walk through the isle, pulling off the parts of the dress until I get to the door, when I walk out I meet up with the other two girls and everything's gold. They're on either side of me and when we turn back around we're surrounded by cameras taking our photo. Cher begins by saying "Don't let anyone tell you you can't be strong" Jenna will say "Define how you want to be viewed as sexy" and I'll say "And never forget to be fierce" Then we go up to a trio of thrones and use the men that tried to hustle us as foot rests.

I had read the script and thought it was hilarious so I decided to sign on, if my brothers' didn't like that I pity the men in this, it's such crap, men and women are equal, one is not better than the other. But, on the other hand, it might teach some ass some manners when talking to a woman. God, I hope that Bram guy sees it. Weirdo. I pulled up my jeans and shoved everything I'd need into a bag. Wallet, water bottle, sunglasses, duct tape… what? You never know when you'll need to fix something. Or make someone shut the hell up. Ssshh.

I went downstairs and into the kitchen to make a turkey sandwich to take incase I got hungry and they only had weird things, like dates. Dates are one of the few fruits I don't like, like green grapes and raisins. Why am I talking to myself in my head? I guess I've finally lost it. Oh well, worse things to be than crazy.

"Let's go already!" Donnie was always good at imitating cartoon's voices, but his Bender voice was the best.

"I'm just finished!" Damn, I English so good. I really need to stop talking to myself. Or would I call this narrating my own life? The rise and fall of Danielle, the struggle is real. Donnie was sitting in the car playing some stupid number game thing on his phone. I sat in the passenger's seat, Mike had chosen to stay home for this and work on his next book instead. Whatever he was playing Donnie stopped and tossed his phone to me so I could "navigate". It usually ended with us completely lost. I tossed it back to him.

"Put your GPS to use and have it tell us where to go, for once. I hate being late to shoots."

"Wimp," he said as he turned on the little box and entered in the address we were given. I rolled my eyes.

"You know it, son." He pulled a face that reflected back at me from the windshield. I made a face back at him.

"So, what's so special about today?" He asked like he didn't care. I knew he did. Cher was our mother's' favorite singer, we had grown up to her songs.

"You're not going to meet Cher if that's what you want. We're only shooting mine today, I'll be back next week for the together scene, maybe, just maybe, she'll have the time for you then." I grinned as he pulled his right hand off the wheel and flipped me off. I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. The car ride went by pretty quickly after that.

The building was pretty much the same as all the others I've been to, big and boring. I opened the car door and closed my eyes briefly before going in. This was so stupid, I want to go back to being in plays. As I walked in through the door I decided then that this was going to be the last stupid photoshoot I was going to do until I was famous on stage. I stopped at the door.

"Donnie, let's make this the last one." He looked relieved.

"Thank God, I'm tired of going to the grocery store and hearing some preteen call my little sister a 'smokin' babe'." He shuddered.

"Oh, well, that makes all the difference, if some preteens thinks I'm a babe, I guess I need to keep doing this." I fake choked. Donnie opened the door and pushed me inside.

"Move out of the way, wide load coming through." Dick head. I looked around the studio and walked to where the clothes were going. Someone from the shoot came up beside me and began talking.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here, and half an hour early! It really is true what they say about you, never late!" She giggled. Before I could get a word in she ran right on. "I'm Maggie, I'm going to be your stylist for today! I can't wait to show you what I've got for you, it's sooo cute! All you have to do is strip off the ugly dress and Poof! Like Cinderella!" I just smiled and nodded. About half way through Maggie talking my ear off Donnie had lifted his hands in surrender and turned around, going to find himself a nice little corner to hide in. Ass. Really, what was she talking about?

"Sounds good, let's get started." I sat down in the chair to allow the makeup lady to work on me. Maggie was still talking. Good God. After what seemed like an eternity she finally said something that interested me.

"And that guy you get to work with is soo cute!" I hadn't really paid attention to who I was supposed to kick off the stage.

"What's his name?" I looked at the ceiling to make the mascara go on better.

"His name is Bram! He's a babe!" I almost choked and had to lock up my eyes so I wouldn't mess up the makeup. God, did she only have one volume setting?

"Oh, cool." I bit my cheeks again. God, why did I have to deal with him again. The lady who was doing my makeup was finally done and Maggie pulled me to behind a curtain and gave me some underwear to put on. I took off my clothes and put on what she had laued out. Purple with black lace. I could work with it. The dress I was going to be wearing was big and poofy, but was a wrap around, so I could pull it off when I was supposed to. I adjusted the long stockings and stepped into the tall pumps I would use to nudge Bram off the stage. Ha.

"Are you ready yet? I'm so excited!" Uuuuhhh, I don't want to deal with her.

"Just a sec," I said. Pulling on the dress I stepped out from the dressing room. Maggie squealed in delight. "Can you tie the back?" She scurried around me and tied a bow.

"All you have to do is pull the strings and it'll fall off." Then she was pushing me to the door. "Hurry, let's go see that hunk!" Okay, that's it.

"Maggie, I really don't think Bram is that hot. He's annoying, egotistic, unfriendly, and just plain moronic. I worked with him yesterday and I wanted to shove chopsticks into my eyes. What's so special about him?" And he called my brother pregnant. Only I can tease them like that. Maggie looked crushed.

"Well, maybe you caught him on a bad day. I mean, he was nice to me." Suddenly she sounded small and sad. I'm not a horrible person for voicing my experiences with the guy, was I? Maybe. Crap.

"I hope so, he gave me the creeps last time I met him." Well, you can't get everyone to like you. I walked onto the floor and looked around. God, Bram was standing with the guy who I guessed was the director, God, I could feel my skin crawl up my arms. Bram looked to where I was walking over and smiled what he thought was a seductive smile. I rolled my eyes at him. The small cluster of people turned towards me then and, for just a moment I had a flash of people I had not seen for years. Henri, Maurice, Meg, and Christine briefly looked at me through faces that weren't theirs; in the blink of an eye the faces of my peers were back and the faces of my friends were gone; they had never been there. Bram held my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. I pulled my hands out of his grasp.

"Keep your hands to yourself," I said and walked passed him. There was a stunned silence as I made my way to the director. "So, what do you want to tell me?" He went through where I should look, where the cameras will be, on and on. "Okay, let's do this."

We did a run through, turned the cameras on, and took a few shoots. "Okay, take a break everyone, we'll start again in twenty minutes. Then, we'll tape the kick and out." I went over to the concessions table and got a plate full of grapes and chips; I also grabbed my bag so I could get my sandwich and my water bottle. I sat in a chair away from the others, I didn't feel like conversing with them. I missed Erik, I missed Meg, I missed Christine, I missed everyone. It nearly made me sick to my stomach. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it.

"Something on your mind?" A voice blew into my ear. I automatically cringed away, I rubbed my ear and turned to see Bram smiling fondly where I used to have my head leaned.

"What's wrong with you?" How can someone not give up when I tell them to leave me alone?

"I just wanted to see what's on your mind, you've been _very_ hostile today." Not as hostile I'd like to get with you. Can't say that. I didn't have any nice reply to day so I settled with giving him a withering look. He gave me a crooked grin in return. I got up and walked away. "Aw, don't be mad." I ignored him and walked to the edge of the stage. Bram followed behind me. Why wasn't anyone saying anything? His hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me around to face him. "What's wrong with you?" I pulled my arm out of his grip just as a force pushed him off the stage. Bram landed hard on his side, next to the bag that had been put in place for the scene where I was supposed to kick him off. The air was still as I turned to the spot where Bram had stood.

Erik stood tall, breathing hard with rage in his eyes, making them glow a dangerous shade of yellow. "_Erik_." I thought my heart was going to stop. He turned to me, his eyes still glowing with anger. I ran to him. "Erik." Inches from his arms, something snapped and he was gone and Bram was groaning on the ground. Sullenly I looked at him from the edge of the stage. "You'll live." He looked at me and pouted. I rolled my eyes and offered him my hand. He grabbed it and pulled himself up.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?" The crew came over and checked him over for any broken bones or sprained wrists or such.

"I don't know, one second I'm on the stage with Danielle, the next i'm on the floor. Maybe a floor board is loose?" I rolled my eyes behind closed lids.

"So how long is this going to take?" They all looked at me, aghast.

"How can you think of that at a time like this?"

"It's not like it's a long way down and he's fine, he should stop hamming it up and do the job he's being paid to." Bram pouted and got up off the floor, brushing the imaginary dust off his clothes.

"Yes, yes, you're right of course, Danielle. We should start immediately." Bram pulled himself onstage and walked over to get ready. Finally, some professionalism.

As we acted out the last part of the scene I let my mask of confidence slip on as I thought about what was happening. I had seen Erik, he was right in front of me and he had shoved Bram off the stage for me. Something big was about to happen, I knew it. We were gravitating towards each other but the reason was out of my grasp. Soon, I thought. Very soon.

**Hey guys,I'm so sorry about the wait. It wasn't my intention to take this long. It started with my internet stopping and my laptop overheating after two months I got those problems fixed, but by then I was completely out of my writing head space and I didn't want to write this chapter, seeing as it was one of the 'boring' chapters without Erik and Danielle together. I'm so so sorry, I promise to do my best from now on. I hope you will keep reading and reviewing, I don't deserve loyal fans like you. Big love to Grapejuice101 and A****rissaprincess321 for repeatedly giving me the kicks I needed to keep up with this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

I tossed my bag onto the floor of my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed. Yep, this shoot has completely diminished my love for getting dressed up and having people taking photos of me. No more modeling for Danielle, for now on I'm sticking to acting. And the less I see of Bram, the better. I stared at the wall next to my bed, not really focusing on anything. When did life come to this? I always tried to make every moment count when I knew I wasn't going to live long, but now that I'm healthy again, it seems like I was spending more and more time just sitting around. I give everything I do one hundred percent, but in between that I feel like a lump on a log. I shuffled out of my clothes and closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep before I go back down for dinner.

I rolled around on my bed, trying to get rid of the squirmy feeling in my stomach that came on whenever I felt like I was wasting my time in this world. All I wanted to do was get back to Erik. I took a few deep breaths and stretched, trying to get my muscles to unwind. What am I doing? I need a sign, something to show me what to do. So, naked and restless, I started pacing in my room. Good God, if my fans could see me now. I'd lose all reputation as a person worthy of fans. Whatever they're called. I feel like screaming. I want to scream. I put all of my power into my arms and did a cartwheel across my floor. I rubbed my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. I rolled my shoulders and flexed my muscles. Restless. Restless. Bored. What now? Do I start doing jumping jacks in my underwear? I opened my laptop and went to youtube, deciding to listen to music and dance, or something, I guess. I clicked on Applause by Lady Gaga. I don't really like the song so much as it's easy to dance to. I started moving my body to the beat, trying to burn as much energy.

"You should really see what you look like when your ass jiggles like that." I almost jumped a mile in the air. I spun around, what was he _thinking_? Popping into a girls' room like that. Der Tod was laying on his back with his head in my pillows looking as if he owned the place. I glared at him, but he gave me only a lovely smile in return.

"Out." I put my hands on my hips. He pouted his perfect lips and stood, revealing his full height, for me, around six foot five. It was different for everyone, he always needed to be taller than the person he was talking to, he liked being looked up to. He fluffed the pure golden waves that fell like the sea on the sand to his shoulders, fixing it as if it needed to be rearranged.

"Not happy to see me?"

"No. Now, unless you want to tell me what you want, get out of my house, even better, get out of my dimension; I don't have time to deal with your fuckery." He laughed, as he always did when I got mad and yelled at him. Apparently it was 'cute'.

"Oh, I thought that you might be happy to get back in action, what with all the fidgeting you were doing back there. Applause? How sad." It always through me for a loop whenever he referenced something modern. He made no effort to change how he looks, I know for a fact that he's worn the same velvet blue jacket, black buttondown, black pants tucked into black boots and sapphire brooch holding the top closed for centuries. He only ever wore white for Elisabeth. "Well, since you've decided to be boring I guess I'll tell you what I came for." Finally, I thought. "You need to come with me now." I felt all of my muscles tense up.

"No." He looked down at me like I was being a petulant child.

"Come, come, we don't have all day. I don't have time for this." He crossed his arms, trying to look menacing.

"Don't give me that shit, you have all the time you want, you just like rushing me." God, he acted like Q from Star Trek: The Next Generation. I can guess who the inspiration was. He huffed.

"You act like that's a bad thing. And stop monologuing about how horrible my personality is, I absorb the traits of the closest person." Bitch. "Now get dressed, we have more important things to worry about." Ugh.

"What now?" A smile crept onto his face. He threw his legs over the side of my bed and stalked over to me, eyes on my like a predator.

"You'll love it." He looked me up and down before a grin grew on his face. "But, as much as our intended would like it, I think you should cover up." After a moment of disorientation I looked down to the dark blue dress that mimicked his suit, right down to the sapphire brooch pinned at my throat. I didn't even want to consider what I would see when I looked in the mirror. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling at him.

"Let's get this over with." He held his arms open for me. I stepped into his embrace and watched as the shadows contorted and quivered before surrounding us and blocking out the light, like an eclipse of the sun.

ERIK

I woke with a start, the image of shoving that young upstart off of my Danielle. The rage in my stomach boiled. He was everything I was not. He was handsome, undamaged, and his face is perfect. His skin was the color of rich caramel while mine was hardly more than translucent, he was obviously the better choice for Danielle, her exotic beauty looked natural next to his. Not to mention the stubble on his cheeks marked that he was able to grow a proper beard, something this detestable face had made impossible for me. What was a man without a beard to mark it? The living proof was that fop Raoul.

Danielle would have laughed at that. She had always thought making jokes about one's person were the most enjoyable. I thought hard, before realizing I could hardly remember what her laugh sounded like. Tears once again filled my eyes as I wept for the loss of my only love. I looked at the small photo of her I kept close on my desk. Her sweet face looked back at me. I could almost hear her now, begging me not to forget her, lest I lose every inch of her that I loved. I could feel all the broken pieces of my heart splinter.

"Erik?" I didn't move as I heard a small voice call my name. Where had all my solitude gone? Now I was being constantly called on, by name at that. I rubbed my eyes, trying to dispel the tears and give a reason for why they were red.

I looked to the entrance, Christine came down the steps to my home. I had always hoped that I would never have to find out what annoying neighbors were like. "What can I do for you?" She walked over, silently, and sat next to me. Danielle would do that, were she here.

"In a few months the opera is going to open and Madame Giry has told me you haven't sent her one note. You are worrying us." Thank God she didn't beat around the bush as she used to.

"I'm entitled to some peace every once in a while, am I not? I own this Opera now! I do not appreciate being told what to do." She opened her mouth, to say something I was expecting. "I know Danielle would not want me to sit down here all day wallowing, but I think she would understand why!" Still talking in the past tense. I wonder who I should tell that I'm dreaming of her? Was I catching glimpses of her in the afterlife? The lifeless dance, the burned forest, had my love condemned her to hell? I tuned out Christine's lecture; the horror rose in my heart, of course that was her punishment for loving a demon like me. Her pretty soul, laid bare to dance forever in Hell. I think I am about to be sick.

"Erik, what's wrong?" Her small white hand urgently grabbed my shoulder.

"I wish to be alone now." The disgust was rolling in my stomach like an unsettling dinner. Christine looked at me, clearly concerned. Maybe at one point I would've cared what she thought, but not now. I pulled away from her, heading for where I kept my cloak and hat. Christine followed me.

"Where are you going? It's the middle of the day!" She was slowly annoying me, as if she knew what was best for me, this ungrateful wretch who would have me killed at the hands of a mob. I pulled my cloak on and covered my face with my hat. Christine caught my wrist. "You will be spotted!" I twisted my arm out of her small hand and grabbed her small wrists, tossing her away from me, with little force, just enough to send her stumbling.

"Forgive me if I don't listen to the advice of a viper such as yourself." I hissed at her. I turned and made my way easily through the tunnels towards the stables where I kept my horse. He turned his great black eyes to me as I walked in, and for a moment I was reminded of the time I first brought her to my home and how she had sat, at first unsurly upon his great back before she found her balance by, to my amusement, pitching with a leg on either side of Cesar's back, like a man. How she had laced her fingers through his mane and gently held on, clearly fearing to hurt him. We had sung together; how I missed her voice entwined with mine, what I would give for once chance to sing with her again. Quickly I mounted Ceasar and we were running through the streets of Paris. Hardly paying attention to the other people milling about in the street, I sped through the carts and carriages, my destination the only thing in my mind. The gates of the cemetery passed in a blur as I went from row to row making my way to her grave. I saw the great sculpted wings first, looming over the green grass and stone markers.

I pulled on the reins and jumped off. Cesar was smart, he stepped away from the graves and began to graze, leaving me to my thoughts.I felt my breath coming fast as I walked up to the statue. After Danielle died I threw myself into sculpting this statue that would be added to the one I had sculpted for Blaise. The image of Danielle twined her arms around her stone companion, kneeling behind him in the beautiful white dress she had worn for _Hannibal _all those years ago. Their eyes looked as if they held a secret they refused to tell the onlooker, Blaise with his eyes ahead, and Danielle with hers looking sideways at him with that mischievous quirk of her lips that I loved so. She looked like she had snuck up behind him, as she had tried to so many times with me, arms slightly crossed and out in front on them while Blaise sat with his legs crossed, hand on cheek, and smiling. That is how it looks when you love someone. I dug my fingers into my palm and remembered how absurd my jealousy was, for two people who were dead.

I was disgusted with myself. I had worked her to death and now I was defiling her memory with my petty jealousy. I was the worst. How could I go on without her? She deserved so much better, if I hadn't been so selfish and let her freely fall in love with that Henri or even Raoul, she would've spent her days in happiness, maybe she would've even had a beautiful, perfect baby. A strong boy or a little girl with her eyes. Our girl. If Danielle and I had wed, she would have lived pampered, we would get the best doctors to help ease her birth and she would bring to us a perfect little girl, she would look like Danielle and we would give her a name as beautiful and perfect as she was. Genevieve. She would learn how to sing and play the piano, and when she had mastered that I would teach her the violin, the harp, the flute, anything she needed to know, we would teach her. We would then have two boys, unruly and smart mouthed, only being tamed by their mother who would make them chop wood when they were 'acting like their heads were made of wood, maybe that would get through to them'. But we would laugh and pull them in before they grew blisters and each have a slice of Chocolate cake before dinner to make sure they knew we loved them. Then, while Danielle made dinner, the children and I would take up our instruments and play melodies to keep her entertained.

It was a wonderful dellution, I would sometimes let myself get caught up in it, maybe it was the only way to keep Danielle with me. The girl who cleaned the opera box. I thought of her little body reaching, on tip-toe, to get the cobwebs from the ceiling. She would make the most annoyed faces, and mutter why things were so high up. I could feel my stomach churning, I knew I should have eaten, I just never feel the hunger gnawing at me anymore, after a while I would feel dizzy and weak, but never the pain of hunger. She wouldn't want this. I know she wouldn't want me to do this to myself, but I couldn't bring myself to be any less lethargic. Soon the ground began to wobble out of focus and I sank down and closed my eyes, my back to the grave. It would pass, it always did. I would leave when I was able. I pulled the brim of my hat low so if someone came through, they would dismiss me as a regular grieving friend. I let my legs stretch out in the grass. For a moment the world was quiet.

The soft shifting of grass pulled me from the daze I had been lost in. It was hard to open my eyes, they seemed to sag down. Danielle looked down at me. She wore a long blue and black dress with a high collar and a large sapphire brooch at her throat. The dress held her snugly around her small waist and, strangest of all, she wore black gloves. She despised gloves, she insisted they made her hands itch and would always take them off. I reached for her, she reached for me. Her hands were solid and warm. I could hardly move my body, tears came fast to my eyes. She looked so sad. How could I have made her sad? I was selfish wishing her away from her peace to my side. She smiled a sad smile then and opened her mouth to sing.

"_How could I know I would have to leave you?_

_How could I know I would hurt you so?_

_You were the one I was born to love._

_Oh, how could I ever know?_

_How could I ever know_?" Her haunting voice sent a chill up my spine. Earlier I could hardly remember her voice, and now I wonder how I could have forgotten. She kneeled and brushed a tear away with her thumb.

"_How can I say to go on without me?_

_How, when I know you still need me so?_

_How can I say not to dream about me?_

_How could I ever know?_

_How could I ever know?_" She sounded so distraught, her hand slipped from my face to my heart, just a small weight of her hand on my heart eased the pain. The dizziness faded to the back of my mind and I could feel my strength returning to my limbs.

"_Forgive me._

_Can you forgive me_

_And hold me in your heart,_

_And find some new way to love me_

_Now that we're apart?_" She pulled her hand away, but I caught it, kneeling now in front of her.

"_How could I know I would never hold you?_

_Never again in this world, but oh,_

_Sure as you breathe, I am there inside you,_

_How could I ever know?_

_How could I ever know?_" I held her tight in my arms, unwilling to ever let go again.

"_How can I hope to go on without you?_

_How can I know where you'd have me go?_

_How can I bear not to dream about you?_

_Oh, how can I let you go?_" Now she was crying, I never wanted her to cry. I ran my hands over her face, through her hair. She was with me. She was here.

"_How could I ever know?_" She laced her fingers through mine.

"_All I need…_"

"_Is there in the Opera._" She sang to me.

"_All I would ask…_" I began again.

"_Is care for the songs of our love!_" I echoed the last words. Our love.

"_Come, go with me, safe I will keep you_." She pulled me to my feet, away from the grave.

"_Where you would lead me,_

_There I would,_"

"_There I would, there we would,_" I could feel the music swell around us. I felt alive. She held my hands at arms length.

"_There we will go._

_Oh! How could I know?_

_Tell me how could I know?_

_Never to know you would ever leave me!_

_How could we know?_" I pulled her in, determined to make her stay, this ghost of my love, selfish as it was. Our voices swelled and rolled, making the ground shake and the sky to light. How could I sing without her? I looked down, into her eyes. He stood on her toes and quickly pecked me on the lips.

She slipped out of my arms and walked backwards, our hands still clasped. Too soon our arms ran out and she let go. "_How Could I Ever Know?_" She blew another kiss and faded from sight as the melodies left the air. Once again I was left standing alone next to the grave of the woman I loved as sad tunes of times gone by danced through my mind.

**Yeah, long time, no update. I'm sorry again, I promised regular updates and it gets to be months later. I'm just swamped in homework at a college level and this is right in the middle of midterms. I can't promise anything, but that this story will not, I repeat, NOT be abandoned. How Could I Ever Know is from The Secret Garden, I don't know who did the music. I do recommend looking it up on youtube, the song is beautiful and it is sung by Mandy Patinkin, Inigo from The Princess Bride. Erik belongs to Leroux and Webber, story and Danielle to me. Leave me feedback!**


	5. Chapter 5

Insanity was not an unknown companion, I had no doubt that I had lost my mind long ago, what other way was there to describe why I was able to write such beautiful music once. With the loss of Danielle I believed that the shock had pushed me to sanity as violently as any shock could. I felt a cold spread through my bones, like an infection. I felt diseased. I let a shaky breath into my lungs. I had lost Danielle and then there she was, as if not even a moment had passed for her. As if there were no sickness, no death, no sorrow. For one moment our voices rang together again, how could I live without that? It could be quick, I could simply walk into the lake and not come up for air. Or I could use the ever present lasso to perform one last bit of magic. There was a sick sort of irony.

No. That is not what she would have wanted. Just for one second longer I would let myself fall into that perfect daydream. Our daughter, Genevieve, would play the harp, and our boys, David and Blaise, he would be named in memory of Danielle's friend as a sign of love and respect, David would play the flute and Blaise would play violin with me and Danielle would look out of the kitchen to watch us play with that look of wonder in his eyes that Danielle had when I sang to her that first time so long ago, maybe she'll wipe a tear of pride out of her eye and pull a face when I point it out. She would call our children to help her serve the dinner and set the table. A family of five, never a lonely moment. We will all laugh and Danielle would swat the boys on the behind for messing with the food, she would give me my plate and kiss my cheek, the scarred one, no need to wear a mask at home. We would entertain our children with stories of our lives, how we met, Danielle's time, how she melted my heart.

Then the children would do the dishes while I played the piano and sang with their mother. She would wear the dresses I made for her, of blues and greens and browns and walk around our home barefoot with her hair down. She would stand behind me and rest her head on my shoulder, reading the music along with me; not the best way to sing, but the closeness what I craved. She would sneak kisses and leave lipstick marks over my cheeks. And I would think back to when she was just the girl in the opera box, how I had no idea how much I could be loved, how lucky I was to be loved. Then the children would come in and make kissy noises at us and we would hold them down and press kisses to their faces before letting them go play for a bit before bed. Genevieve would chase her brothers around the yard in the light from the house. Danielle and I would sit on the couch and watch them, wrapped in each others' arms and reflecting on how lucky we were to be their parents.

But that was only a dream.

I pushed myself away from the grave. Cold stone,that was all it was. It didn't even contain her body, the body that had disappeared, leaving me nothing to grieve over but the cold, hard stone. Her eyes looked into mine and I could almost hear her singing, telling me to go to our opera, take care of it. It was the last place I had her. I turned my back on the stone angels and walked back to Caesar. I sat atop my proud horse, pulled his reins, and with one backwards glance, galloped away from the grave.

DANIELLE

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" My teeth ground the inside of my lip, I tried to keep the tears back, I was lucky. Der Tod stood behind me, expressionless, emotionless. That's the problem with Der Tod. Though he was once alive, eons ago, he's handled death so long he forgot how to feel. That's why he needed me, and people like me. His 'little deaths', minions to him. He pulls the emotions he wants from them for himself, never enough to remind him of his humanity, it had been too long for that, whatever there was of it has long since died. The only reason he kept me by his side was because him drawing on my emotions didn't drain me like it did them. Well, that and I'm the only one that calls him on his bullshit. And maybe I stick around because I like seeing him experience emotions again and coordinate expressions to go with them for the first time in hundreds of years.

"You feel bad, I feel it too. But I didn't bring you to him. I took you nearly one hundred years before, I wanted to show you the beheading of Louis XVI." It sometimes amazed me how weird Der Tod could be, I can't even describe how he looked when he said that, it was a kind of a 'so there' expression. When had he ever felt that from me? He always gets the last laugh, the dick. "You went there yourself, nice ripping off the Secret Garden, by the way." I hate him.

"You know these history musicals, people don't understand the message unless it's in a song. And shut up, it's a beautiful song and a great musical, I thought we should advert it in somewhere."

"What?"

"Nothing." I smiled. Finally, I get the last word. "Well, I don't want to see some poor jackass get his head chopped off just for being the king. And possibly a bad one, but still." He huffed. God, why do I get stuck with the Death that acts like a god damn drag queen. Maybe I should project something more professional. Well, it's not my fault he chooses to project the annoying feelings.

"You've stopped amusing me for now, I'm leaving." He turned on his heel and disappeared.

"Yeah, go play with your petite morts." I stuck my tongue out at where he once stood.

Now that he was gone, the room seemed a little darker, lonelier. I ground my teeth and walked out of my room, to keep Mike company, it was his turn to make dinner. I pulled the chair to the breakfast bar out and almost climbed into the seat. Mike and Donnie were big enough to be able to keep their feet on the floor, but my legs swung back and forth like a child's. Mike looked around from taking the chicken out of the oven and paused, looking me up and down.

"Sup with the dress?" I looked down and sure enough I was still wearing the black and blue dress Der Tod and stuffed me in.

"That's a good question." Mike turned around and basted the bird, letting me ignore the question for the rest of the night.

The next morning I got a call from ALW himself. I felt the familiar call of anxiety as jelly pooled in my knees and butterflies did the macarena in my belly. I took the phone from Donnie and lifted it to my ear.

"Hello?" I did my best to make it seem like I was doing anything other than panicking.

"Hello, Danielle. I've got wonderful news for you. I know it's customary to exchange greetings, but I can't wait to tell you." Without letting me get a word in edgeways he went right on with his news. "The Opera Garnier is celebrating its 140th year, and they want to celebrate it with a gala and concert with songs from Phantom and LND. They called me to ask for my help. They were compiling a list of artists and I mentioned you, they liked the idea and they want you to sing for the part of Christine. I wanted to call you myself and ask if you would mind terribly to indulge and old man?" I wanted to toss the phone out the window and collapse on the ground all at the same time.

"I like that. Yeah. Yes, I will." I thought I was going to throw up. I heard my brothers whooping in the other room. I took the cordless into the other room and saw Donnie swinging Mike around like a kid. They had been listening on the other line. They stopped when they saw me looking at them, and pretended to be doing anything but listening to my conversation. I covered the receiver with my hand. "Gaaayyyyyy." I walked into the kitchen to take down the information.

"They'll likely call you tomorrow and fill in the gaps. I hope to see you soon for the audition." We said our goodbyes and hung up. I don't know what to do. I really don't. So I went up to my room and sat down, trying to figure out my life.

Days passed before I saw Der Tod again. This time, he didn't look like a kid in a candy shop. He had cut himself off from my emotions. Nothing good came from that. I thanked God that it was one of my days off before I drove down to LA for an interview with Billie Hayworth about my part in the upcoming Phantom concert.

"What's wrong?" No more joking.

"How do you know something's wrong? It could just be a surprise." I sometimes wondered how Der Tod handled the feeling of being so empty. If there weren't emotions, what was there? Nothing but a heart full of cold air passing through where his love for Sissy used to be.

"Don't try to lie to me Halál, I know you too well." He pulled a smile from somewhere, it didn't look right on his face, like he was copying the look someone else made when they smiled. It was wrong. I felt a little bad for him; Der Tod cannot feel, his heart is gilded in cold diamonds and steel to keep him from wavering on his mission of ferrying the souls of the world to the land of the dead. He could no more remember who he used to be, what his life was like, how he lived, or who he loved. I never felt sorry for anyone as I did for Der Tod.

I went with him without a fight, taking his hand and placing a kiss in his palm. Soft black gloves whispered under my lips, hiding the slim, black tipped nails. Perfect hands, hands that took life away.

We walked down the hall and came to a door that was not there before, I was almost mad that he had not let me travel this way earlier. But I couldn't bring myself to. We approached a man in his twilight years with a white beard and white hair that curled behind his ears, a man who wasn't a man. When he turned I could see his warm eyes that seemed to bring warmth into the room. I looked into those eyes and I couldn't look away. Those were the eyes of the man who had saved me. A smile broke onto his face.

"Danielle."

"Grandfather." I acknowledged.

"Death." He turned his eyes onto Der Tod, he didn't have much respect for the man that had almost taken my life. It was a weird tension between them.

"Why did you want me?" I still didn't feel comfortable around him, he was perfectly nice, but I was still uncomfortable. Maybe I'm just an awkward person.

"I want to take you somewhere." Cryptic answers, that never bodes well, I hate the wait and see attitude, it just feeds my anxiety.

"Where? And why now?" I really wanted to be as prepared as I could.

"I need you to come to your far past with me, Time demands it. You need to wait and see so you can witness it as it was written." You know that you've got the mind of the Mad Hatter when someone speaking in circles makes sense. Everytime I meet with him he manages to give me horrible anxiety with his crazy way of teaching me to do what 'needs to be done'. I'd better get this overwith.

"I'm ready; take me there." I reached to take his hand when I felt the cool press of a silken glove on my upper arm. I looked over my shoulder to Der Tod.

"Take care." I could almost feel worry radiating from his lifeless eyes to mine. I nodded and turned to take my Grandfather's hand.

The next thing I knew it was dark and I felt the strict confines of a fine, French dress wit my hair uncomfortably done up in pins. I clutched the small fashionable bag to my stomach, trying to shut out the nervousness.

"Where are we?" I looked around at the dingy tents with faded colors, still trying to show off their gayness.

"Greece, 1845. We're at the freak show." I looked up and felt my stomach constrict.

"'The Devil's Child'," I could feel the bile rising. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

"You need to go into that tent." I could feel him gently urging me forward. I wanted to turn and run away, run until my legs had turned to mush and there was nothing left of them and I was forced to drag myself away.

"I don't want to, I don't think I can. I can't see what they did to him." I felt cold sweat trickle down my spine.

"Time says you need to be here now, and you can't undo what Time says." I curled my toes in my boots and walked through the flaps. There was a crowd gathered around a cage with long iron bars and wheels. A fat gypsy man made a show of ripping the mask off of a small, frail, frightened boy that clung to the rough burlap like it was a lifeline. People all around me laughed and jeered.

God, how could something like this have been allowed?

I looked for some pity in the faces of those around me. There were large drunk men swaying when they stood, hardly sober enough to focus on what was in the cage, women stood with a handkerchief clutched over their mouth and noses in disgust. Worst of all, there were some children who looked like they wanted to throw rocks, instead they pointed and laughed, some trying to spit on him. Erik looked to be in the worst kind of agony.

I covered my mouth, trying to muffle the sound of my sobbing. He tried his hardest to hide his face in his hands, but the fat gypsy pulled his head back by his filthy hair; his eyes were so tightly closed he must be seeing stars.

"Beat the Devil out of him!" Some drunkard yelled from the crowd and everyone cheered, so the gypsy pulled a whip from his belt and swung it in the air trying for a fancy motion before bringing it down hard on his back. I cringed with every cry he made. I felt the tears leaking out of my eyes fast and hot. How could anyone do this to a little boy, no matter how he looked?

He brought the whip down again and again until his back was a bloody mess that looked like it was more likely to get infected and kill him. If I didn't know the contrary, I would swear that Erik was doomed.

This is what it must be like when your child is in danger; you have no idea how long it's been, but the urge to go and save them is stronger than anything you've ever felt before. I just wanted to know out everyone in that room and hold Erik in my arms and tell him everything was going to be alright.

After an unknown amount of time Erik was thrown down and people began to exit the tent. I rubbed my eyes dry and marched up to that lothable man with the blankest look on my face.

"I'd like to have a private viewing of the child, if you don't mind." He eyed me up and down, not very subtly staring at my body. I wonder how much force behind a punch it would take to kill him?

"Isn't much left to look at." What a disgusting disgrace of a human being, he would give the Devil indigestion. I never knew how much I could hate a person before I looked at this man. My father had tried to kill me, but this man was parading Erik around like an animal and beating him to the brink of death day after day.

"I'm sure I could amuse myself for… ten minutes?" I pulled a small bundle of gold from my purse and dangled it in front of his dirty little face. I saw his beady eyes gleam with gold lust. I let my lip curl in disgust as he took it from my fingers.

"Ten minutes of gawking at the Devil's Child privately, just for the two of you." He walked past me, already unlacing the sack of gold that would disappear from his stores in less than a week and closing the flap of the tent behind him. I felt my heart rate quicken; God, how was I going to get anywhere near Erik enough to help him. I looked to Erik and saw he was looking at me through the cage like a wounded animal that would lash out to protect himself. I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I took in the heartbreaking site. He seemed surprised that I was crying, and my heart broke a little more; I could only guess that he had never seen someone weep for him.

"You poor boy, you poor sweet boy." I slowly approached the cage, trying not to scare him. I crouched down next to him as he looked at me curiously. I opened my bag and pulled out more food than could have logically fit in there, but Erik didn't seem to notice, his eyes were focused on the food in the straw. "No one should be treated like this. Come here." I held my arms through the bars and he tentatively moved into them. I tried to exude comfort and care. I gently stroked his hair as he turned into my chest and cried.

"Turn this way, I'll see if I can clean your back." He reluctantly turned around and I pulled some ointment out of my bag and dabbed it onto a handkerchief. "This may sting." I felt him flinch and felt a small part of me die a little. I pressed on knowing that it was the right thing to do. "I wish I could help you more." For a moment I saw the man he was to become, the famed and feared Phantom and knew I couldn't interfere anymore. "You don't deserve this."

"Then why is this happening to me?" He managed to whimper out.

"Because there are horrible, horrible people on this Earth." I didn't try to hide the bitterness in my voice. I pressed closer into the bars to give him more of myself to lean into.

"We have to go now." Erik clung to me like a lifeline.

"Don't leave me." I looked into his eyes and let a few tears slip down. I rubbed my thumb over the twisted skin on his face, studying all the twists that I had so loved in my past and his future. I noticed how his lips were twisted like the rest of his skin. I brushed over the skin there, the least I could do was give him lips he didn't have to hide.

"You'll see me again." Erik held tight to my hand. I held him close to me and began to hum, _Fais, Do Do._ I hoped the lullaby from his homeland would give him the comfort to wait a little longer and escape with Madame Giry when the time came. But I knew that he would hardly remember me at all.

Back now, in the room we'd left of Der Tod. I looked at my empty arms and felt my heart break. I looked at the solemn faces of the men in the room. They had known, and they hadn't warned me.

"I want to leave." Grandfather nodded and Der Tod took my arm again and we went down the hall again. He left me to my thoughts and that's how I wanted it. Soon we were back in my bedroom and I sat slumped over on my bed and put my face in my hands.

"I'm sorry," Der Tod said. And then he was gone. I let my head fall to my pillow and closed my eyes, I willed myself to sleep, trying to forget what happened.

**So there's that. I'm ashamed of myself for not updating more. It's just that I'm not really as into this fandom as I was before and it's harder to write then. I promise I will finish this story eventually, hopefully before next December, please be patient with me, and thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Erik belongs to Leroux and Webber, all others belong to me.**


	6. Chapter 6

It had been a month since the night I saw the horrors that a young Erik had faced. I had gone to see Billie Hayworth and sung for her; she had loved me and I tried to get excited about the fact that I was now the singer of all the best Phantom and LND song as Christine. But it felt wrong, why should I be happy when playing a fictional version of the story Erik and I shared, why should I be happy when there were those out there who still needed me? I re-read the email I'd gotten from ALW telling me I was going to be flown to Paris and rehearsals would start there on a few weeks time. It was late August and we had until December to get this show running like it was supposed to, I felt my blood pump fast in my veins. This is what I loved; the buzzing excitement of the theatre, getting onstage and reminding me that I was alive. The raw energy.

What was I going to do until then? So, I sat at my computer and opened up netflix. Friends marathon, here we come. I sat crosslegged on my bed for two hours before Der Tod decided to drop in. I could feel him coming, it was almost like the build up of a storm front. At least he had the courtesy to make sure I knew it was him.

"What do you want?" He pouted.

"Now I can't visit you without having an agenda? How rude." He stuck his pretty lip out, looking the part of a put out friend.

"You never have before,why would you start now?" He scowled now.

"Because, for better or worse you're the only friend I have; happy?" That sort of stunned me; really, he considered me his only friend? Makes me feel all fuzzy inside, that or it could be my legs had fallen asleep.

"And you're trying to make me feel better?" How sweet, I didn't think he was capable of doing something this nice.

"It's just annoying to feel you mope all the time." He turned his perfect nose up at me and walked to my door and opened it into his realm. "Don't terry, it's not easy to learn the technique of sword fighting, and you certainly won't get it if you take as long as you do to step through the door." I grabbed a pair of jeans that I'd left on the floor and followed him. I took out my phone and shot a text to Donnie.

_Gonna be out for a while._

_How long?_

_Who knows with Der Tod?_

_Literally or Physically?_

_Physically._

_Don't get hurt where I can't save you._ I put my phone away and looked as the world that Der Tod had bent together for us. There were clouds, and gray stone pillars that matched the stone on which we stood. It almost looked like an abandoned abbey on the highlands of Scotland, by the coast. But there was no ocean, or grass, just sky and clouds. I guess he didn't want my attention to wonder with all the beauty around us. I guess he knew me too well.

"When you think of sword fighting, you think of how humans have demonstrated it in your movies and on television, but the history behind it is far more fascinating and elegant. As all demons and angels were once one, there was no need for violence, and as such the sharp blades of sword and spear were used as a form of entertainment, dances. I suppose that the closest dance I can imagine is the tango; with all the swipes and thrusts, it shows closest the image of how we used to dance in the time of peace. Though there were many different sword dances, slow and fast, none of your human dances really capture the dodging aspect of our dances." He turned away from me to open a case with a dozen different pairs of swords. He pulled out two long swords with a gentle curve of the blade and handle. There was a guard on the handle to prevent, I guess, someone cutting off the opponent's fingers. Ugh, bad image.

"Did they use axes?" He shrugged.

"All manner of weapons were once used only for our dances, the sharp blades were added for effect, like pointe shoes." It does sound cool. It is kind of sweet that Der Tod is trying to share this with me, even though those a real swords and not fake ones. I guess regular swords don't kill angels or whatever.

"Take this one." He handed me a sword; I almost fell under its' weight.

"You should've warned me that it weighed like Jesus' cross! How much does weigh? Like, a limp five year old?" I lifted it over my head to try and get used to the weight. I needed to remember to work on my biceps again, but working out bored me to tears.

"So many analogies, why not just try and focus on swing it, slowly, so when you are not knocked off balance when we are dancing." I concentrated on the sword, slowly swinging it like Der Tod was showing me. It took forever it seemed for the sword to lighten enough for us to move on to the steps.

"Try and follow my feet, mirror what I do. There are some traditional dances, but when we are not at a ceremony, it is mainly improvised. You need to know who is leading, then with the first cut, the other starts leading; defensive and offensive." He stepped toward me with his left foot and I stepped back with my right.

"What about the first cut?" I'm not letting him stab at me with a sword.

"When the war was being fought, that was more or less how they advanced or fell back. Our wars were the first, even then the Fallen King never used underhanded tactics to win, he wanted to win by his own power. It killed him, though, when he lost and was sentenced to rule over Hell, but he would never lose in disgrace." Weird, Lucifer lost with honour. I thought he would be the king of underhanded tricks.

"That's strange. I can't believe he would just accept that fate." It became an easy rhythm, block, block, lunge, dip.

"He does ready his armies for the Judgement Day, where he and God will face off on the smoldering battlefield of the Earth and lead to the ultimate destruction of one or the other. But not a moment sooner will his armies touch the Earth." Almost poetic.

Suddenly Der Tod's sword came at me from an unexpected angle, I was just able to block it with an upward strike. There was a small shower of sparks.

"Wanna tell me why you almost cleaved me in half?" I knocked the sword from his hand and tossed mine down.

"We need to practise surprise moves, and what better way to practise than to surprise you?" Ugh, well I can't expect him to not act like an ass in just one session. At least my arms are getting stronger, and my instincts are getting sharper. I massaged my arms from top to bottom and stretched.

"You just like being mischievous. But at the cost of my life? Dick." I rolled my shoulders and yawned. Der Tod kicked up his sword and held it in front of him, his other arm in the air.

"En guarde?" I grabbed my sword and mirrored his pose.

"En guarde." Der Tod lunged forward, knocking his sword to the side I swung, narrowly missing his chest.

Gradually we went faster and faster, really beginning to dance, though it was all really basic. I know I won't hit him any time soon, but it's nice to let out my excess energy. Pretty soon my arms and legs were burning too much for me to keep swinging. I leaned heavily on the blade, not able to raise my arms up.

"Time to stop." I panted, letting my body drop. Der Tod swung his sword up onto his shoulder and cocked his head at me.

"You're right, you have a job." I looked up at him, knowing that he saw I was bathed in sweat and covered in nicks and bruises that he gave me when he wanted to be a dick.

"You're right, I'll totally look like a heavenly body like this, they're going to love me!" Der Tod pulled me up and swung my arm over his shoulder.

"Don't be a whiny baby, this is one of yours. You have to do your job, I'm not taking it, and certainly not sending someone else." With a wave of his magic the ache in my muscles lessened and I felt the grime of however long fall away for a while at least. "Want to take a look at yourself." Sometimes it amazed me how monotone Der Tod can make a sentence. I looked in the mirror that he had made. I bit my cheek to keep the sorrow from taking over. I looked like I had when I was Evangeline. The white robe dress. Ha, robe in French is dress. Der Tod blew a ring of light around the crown of my head, creating a halo effect. I closed my eyes, fighting the tears.

"Take me to them." Der Tod held my hand and suddenly we were in a cold street, I could see some buggies farther down in the street. I could hardly feel the cold, even though I could see my breath. I could hear a weak whimpering from a small ally a little ways up the Rue. Der Tod had gone. I walk to the ally, slowly turning the corner and walking down, letting the halo light my way.

There was a small child dressed in rags huddleing in the trash to keep warm. I knelt down, the white flowy dress floating around me. His shivering blue face looked up at me, he was barely conscious; he was so young and scared, he reminded me of Erik.

"Don't be afraid little Francois, you have to come with me now." I opened my arms for him. He looked around, afraid. He had stopped shivering, going into one of the final stages of hypothermia. "I promise you will never hurt again, Francois." My light seemed to grow brighter around us. The frozen tears on his face seemed to thaw as he pushed himself into my arms. Small arms clung around my neck; his little sobs shook my body. I stood, holding him tight to me, shielding his eyes from the cold form he left behind.

"I've got you now, you're safe; you're going home." I let the light envelope us.

ERIK

I could feel my heart shatter as I saw the light vanish into the nothingness from which it came. Just the glimpse of her was enough to break my heart. She was helping the souls of the dead, like her, pass to the next life. My beautiful Danielle was helping others as she had helped me. At that moment I stopped wishing she was alive; how could I be so selfish as to want to take her away from delivering the souls of children to heaven so she could be stuck here, on this miserable hunk of rock, with me?

It felt as if my insides had exploded outward, again I was left with an open wound that would slowly have to close itself. Forgetting why I had ventured out in the first place, I returned to the dark abyss of my home, hardly lighting any of the numerous candles that hung all about. This is all I deserved, all I was.

DANIELLE

Home again. What was I even doing with my life? What was I becoming? I was there to witness children dying; what kind of life was that? I rubbed my hand horizontally across my stomach, trying to stave off hunger. Whatever magic Der Tod had pulled on me was starting to wear off, I was tired and hungry as ever. I went to my room, taking off the white dress and switching into slouch shorts and a tank top before going downstairs and getting something to eat.

"Where have you been for the last two days? We were worried sick!" Donnie and Mike had cornered me as I went to get a sandwich.

"On assignment, you know I can be gone for days at a time."

"Yeah, but you never have, I expected you to at least call us when you realized you were going to be gone for more than a day, I didn't know what to do; call the police and have you waltz back in the middle of the questions! Come on, you need to be better about this. We're your family, we love you, and we need to know where you're going." Mike was totally backing Donnie on this. I knew that they had worried, but it's not like I planned this.

"I know, but seriously, it's not like anyone will notice that I've been gone for two days besides you; and anyway, it's not like all family keeps tabs on each other wherever they go."

"Most families don't constantly _live_ together! If it were out to the bar or whatever, that'd be fine, but you were gone for two days, and we had no idea if you were dead or alive!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't really have any time before the Star Gate closed. How about we go out to dinner tonight so the town can see that I'm not a complete shut-in?" Donnie checked his work phone.

"You and Mike go; I'm on call at the hospital tonight." I shrugged, knowing that Donnie needed to be at the hospital tonight; I didn't really want to go out for dinner, it just seemed like the right thing to say.

"Okay, but I'm going up for a nap first, I haven't slept in two days." I went back up to my room. The walls were covered in posters and pictures, where there weren't bookcases bowing under the heavy line of books, stacked like library books, then with two or three other rows over the tops. All these things I had loved, posters from all my favorite musicals, pictures of friends and family, books and a closet full of clothes and shoes, and boxes of old toys and children's books that I still took out to read sometimes. Yellow walls, soft green rug; overall it was inviting, and I'd never had to share, but now I spent all of my time here, either because I wanted to be by myself, or because I was exhausted from work or Der Tod. I'd hardly had any time for my friends, only being able to text or call them in between shoots. I was a terrible friend, I always have to cancel plans because something in my life lit the fuck up and I need to put out, yet another, fire. I rolled into my bed, not caring that the sun was coming through the tall windows on the opposite wall, closing my eyes against the glare and rolling over onto my other side.

ERIK

Again at my bench. Progress was slow, but at least now there was some. I would be able to get more done if people weren't constantly telling me to sleep. I didn't need to sleep, them fussing over me was the last thing I wanted. I felt my fingers going numb from hours of writing, and crossing out; this opera wouldn't write itself, but no one was going to perform it; none of my works would ever be performed again, not after Don Juan.

I let my elbow rest against the edge of my organ, again an impressive headache burning just between my eyes. trying to work through it, I pressed a few keys, getting notes out of my head before the pain asserts itself again , causing me to double over. Perhaps, this was the universe's way of telling me to sleep. I suppose I should comply. I stumbled to my bedroom, ready to give in to all the people demanding I get 'a good night's sleep'. If only they knew what they asked of me.

There were birds singing outside the window, happily pecking at the birdfeeder I had hung there just this morning filled with seeds. I dried the last of the dishes from dinner as soft golden evening light filtered through the window.

"Erik." I turned to see Danielle standing in the doorway, wearing the beautiful white dress from _Hannibal_, her hair was loose and as she smiled up at me, I saw she was barefoot. For a moment my heart clenched. Here she was, beautiful as the dawn, seeming to glow in her white dress, why did the sight bring me such sorrow? "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to give me that surprise you've been talking about all day?" Of course, the surprise.

"Just a moment." I placed the last dish on the counter and followed her into the living room of our home. I sat at the grand, black piano and played a soft melody for her. I felt her place her chin on my shoulder as she looked down at the keys with me. Her soft cheek against the hard porcelain of my mask. Soon the melody stopped and I waited for her to say something, as she always did when I showed her a new composition.

"What do you think?" I said after she had been quiet for two whole minutes.

"Just how wonderful this life could have been if you had saved me." I stood and turned to face her as she backed away from me. I was frozen in place as she began to cough; harsh, wet coughs. Soon blood began pouring out of her mouth, down her chin and staining the clean white of her dress. She tried to cover her mouth, but the blood dribbled through her fingers; not it ran from her mouth, her nose, her ears, her eyes; those eyes that stared at me cruelly, full of hate.

"Why didn't you do anything? Why did you let me die?" The entire front of her frock was soaked through with blood. "Is this how much you love me? Erik!" I closed my eyes, too horrified to look any longer. Suddenly she was there, blood squishing against the hardwood of the floor. My eyes were over again and my gaze was held with hers. "I curse the day you had me sing for you." Her mouth opened wide, revealing the bloody teeth behind perfect lips, and a scream ripped itself from her throat, bone chilling.

I awoke in a cold sweat, my heart hammered against my ribs as the scream echoed in my mind. Almost blindly I stumbled out of my bed and down the steps where Meg left her meals for me. I eyed the sharp serrated dinner knife she had left me along with the last dinner. I know Danielle wouldn't want me to do this to myself, I knew that she would have done anything to stop it. But Danielle Wasn't here. She would never be here again.

**Sooo, I'm back! Kinda. Soooo sorry it's been so long, I didn't really have to motivation to finish this chapter, nothing really happens in it until the end and I only thought that last part up today. Hurray for inspiring horror movies! I'd like to thank Grapejuice101 for her constant support and a Guest that recently reminded me of how long it's been; hats off to you! I promise I won't keep you waiting for 7 months again. I also promise I will never give up on this story, not until the end, so you're stuck with me for now. Read, review and enjoy, I'll be back soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

I lowered my sunglasses against the glare of the flashing lights of the paparazzi. I raised my arm and waved at my fans, they had come to greet me at the airport with signs and cameras, just like they always did when I had done something noteworthy that had made me get in the plane in the first place. Really, I didn't want to be swarmed at the airport; I mean, I'd just flown from California to France, I'd gotten connecting flights in who knows where and flown for ten hours. I was tired and my butt hurt. Really, all I wanted to do was find my bed for the next month and sleep, order room service, and sleep again. God, why did these people even want to see me? I look like hell warmed over.

"Salut, Danielle! Welcome to France!" I smiled back at the reporter.

"Salut Mademoiselle, Merci beaucoup!" That only started a whole slew of other questions aimed at me. Bad showboating. I just smiled and walked to the waiting car. The driver pulled away and began driving me to whatever hotel I was staying at. I slumped against the seat; I wonder how many celebrities the driver had seen brought down like I was now? I tried to keep my eyes open as we wound our way through the confusing map of roads they called the Paris streets. I cringed at the thought of having more people waiting for me at the hotel, I didn't want people to pay attention to me when I looked like this.

"We are coming up on your hotel, Madame, just a few more minutes." I almost felt bad I didn't know what to call him when I thanked him, but I was too tired to care right now. I looked up at the grand, old building that was going to be my home for the month. For a moment my exhaustion was wiped away.

"Oh my." I couldn't form a complete sentence. It seemed like someone had turned an old palace, or French noble mansion, into a five star hotel. I was shocked at the luxury that I was afforded, not only was I being paid to sing some of the most beautiful songs that had ever been written, but I was living here, God, I was afraid to even walk in the door; I look like a homeless person compared to the people I see milling about outside the door. Quick as I could, I took out my phone and used it as a mirror while I wiped smudges of makeup off and fixed my hair into some semblance of order. Too soon we were stopped at the door and more lights were going off. Slowly I got out of the car and the driver pulled my bags from the trunk. Fast as I could I smiled, waved, and fast walked into the hotel lobby where there were, thankfully, no cameras.

"Hello, I'm checking in; Danielle BellRose?" The clerk typed my name in and handed me a room key.

"Here you are, Madame BellRose; shall I call a bellhop for your bags?" I shook my head.

"Thanks, but I can do that myself." I hung my bag on my arm and pulled my rolling suitcase behind me. I stood in the elevator by myself and pressed the floor number I was staying on. They didn't have elevator music here, I wonder if that's a French thing, or just a this hotel thing. The word for hotel is weird in French, mainly because the French have pretty much deleted the letter from the beginnings of most h-words. So hotel is ôtel with a silent h in front, and ôpital instead of hospital. I don't know why silent letters bug me so much; but if they're not going to be pronounced at all, why be there in the first place?

The doors slid open into a nicely lit yellow walled hallway lined with doors. I looked down at the number in my hand: 12; my lucky number. I felt dead on my feet, all I wanted was to go get in my new bed and sleep until they had to drag me to rehearsals, sigh; such as a day in the life of someone fresh off a nine hour flight. My back hurts. My bones hurt. My everything hurts. Ugh, my poor human meat.

Someone was standing in front of the door to my room, their hands in their pockets.

"Blaise!" I dropped my bags and ran to hug him. I could feel the tears in my eyes, even after all the time he had been back, I still cried a little whenever I saw him; I could always see him lying in that bed, dying, while I could do nothing. I remembered the day when I saw him again.

I stood, nervous and almost shaking, waiting for the director to come and talk to us. I knew all the songs, all the lines (what few there were), and practiced the dancing. Now we were getting together for the first time to run it through as a group. This was my first real, big time, play; you know, in this century. My heart was hammering. Why do I do this to myself? I should run. I could hide out somewhere where they would never find me, become a hermit, grow a beard, and shave it off, and live happily ever after. Somewhere in the middle of this rant, someone had snuck up behind me and covered my eyes.

"Guess who?" My mind went blank. The storm of emotions broke, giving way to complete and utter sorrow. If I had a real guess, I'd say Blaise; this man had the same voice, a little lower and rougher, no French either. It was enough to get me to fight tears. I took a breath, an unintentional sob came out. "No, no Danielle, c'est moi, it's me!" The hands pulled away from my eyes and turned me around. I must be crazy.

Because in front of me was my dead friend.

I knew it couldn't be true. To me, it had been over a year since he died, for the Earth, it had been 150 years. A few rogue tears dropped out of my eyes and I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from howling in sorrow. He looked like him too. But bulkier and taller. His hair was also brown instead of black. And his jaw was squarer. But he had Blaise's eyes. And his curls. And the lips that were stretched into a look of panic.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you'd cry; I just figured that since we'd be working together we'd see each other eventually and I wanted to try and make it casual! I never meant to hurt you." He put his larger now hands on my arms and rubbed them up and down. I broke out into an all out storm front.

Blaise wasn't dead; not any more. He was right here. I cried so hard I gave myself a headache and ruined the makeup I'd worked so hard applying. Blaise tried to get me to stop, but all he did only made it worse, not that having everyone stare at me like I was insane helped either. Finally, I pulled myself away from him and hid in the bathroom. I don't know how long I was there for, trying to calm myself down. Taking deep breaths just made me dizzy as I hyperventilated. I need to go home, before this goes any further. I can apply to the community college, buy my textbooks online and figure out what else I'm good at and do that, be a normal person and have a normal life, try to forget everything I ever wanted and occasionally do community theatre. Or never act again, that's cool.

"You thinking about coming out?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to get all the moisture off my lashes while salvaging some of my makeup. I'd exhausted myself with crying. And once again in my life, I could blame Blaise.

"No, I'm mapping out my new life in here, you know, around all the people barging into my new apartment." I blew my nose hard on some bunched up toilet paper. "Don't talk to me." He laughed. "Don't even laugh. I can't stand it."

"Well, what do you want me to do? I can't leave you here, they're expecting you." I dug my fingernails into my palm, trying to distract myself from the inside pain, with outside pain.

"I don't want you here, at all."

"Harsh." I kicked the door.

"Do you know how hard it was to lose you? To have to sit there and watch you die, knowing there was nothing I could do? You meant the world to me. I sat as people bad mouthed you, realized they were wrong and dealt with the fallout. The only comfort I had was that you weren't in pain anymore, that you didn't have to deal with this world anymore. And when I've _finally_ been able to move on, try and live life to the best of my ability like you would've wanted me to, you pop out of the fucking woodwork! No one told me that it's a possibility that the person you watched die would just come back from wherever the hell they prance off to after death. Do you understand how any of this makes me _feel_? It's like you kicked me in the head, pulled out my guts, and God knows _I_ know how that feels! How could you do this to me Blaise?" I started to cry again and sat on the ground blocking the door.

"How could I die, or how could I get the nerve to come back?" He sounded like he was trying to smile. I don't want him to smile, I want him to know what he's doing to me, how he's killing me.

"Both!"

"Look, I don't know about the logistics of the last, and I don't got a good answer for the first. People die, it hurts the people they love and it burned me really bad, dying like that. In my prime. Happy with where I was in life. But I was stupid, I was drunk. I made a bad choice that I couldn't take back."

"And I had to be the one to bury you, for God's sake I'll be the one to bury you again!" I balled my fist and smashed it against the door. "I was the one who chose where you rest, I was the one who bought the oak crate they lowered you in, I commissioned a sculpture for your headstone, so don't walk up to me like nothing happened and expect to be forgiven, just because you weren't there to see me suffer your death." I was past the hyperventilating stage and on the track to calming myself down; thank God the rage was replacing sorrow. "I loved you, stupid. Didn't you know that? And you died, _died_, then it was like I had no one. I know there were people there for me, but you were the only _sane_ one, you knew all my secrets, everything in me. How could you leave me alone?" I broke down again. Why did this have to happen now? This was supposed to be the most exciting moment of my life, now I just feel sick. I want to throw up, I wanted to drown myself. I just wanted this to stop.

"Danielle, I know I hurt you. I know that you might not forgive me. I thought it would be easier if we pretended that nothing happened, so I tried that. I think I knew it wouldn't work, but I didn't want it to be like this between us. I just wanted us to be friends again, without all the trouble of talking about my death. I just wanted our friendship back."

"you're stupid, even if you hadn't metaphorically killed me when you decided to pop back into existence, you know me better than that, I always need to know everything, we would've ended up just where we are now." I pressed my forehead against the door, trying to cool the feverish heat of face. "Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong."

"Bowie."

"Yeah."

"Gonna come out now?"

"No."

"Come on."

"Say it in French."

"Manger de la merde."

"Liar."

"Now come out." I unlocked the door and buried my face in his chest before slamming my fist into his stomach. He groaned, and slid to the ground.

"If you ever do that to me again, I'm going into Hell to drag your sorry gay ass back myself." I offered him my hand. He pulled me down on top of him.

"Thanks. And with that, we're even." I pulled myself up and began to walk away. "Hurry up." Blaise pulled himself off the floor and followed me.

"So, you ready to get this on? In Paris?" I dropped my bags and opened my door, kicking the heavy shoulder bag into the room, pulling the rolly one after me.

"I'm ecstatic; it's so good to be back in the motherland." He lay back on my bed, making himself at home. I put all my bags in the hotel closet. God, this room was big. I started feeling a little smug through my weariness. I was the high baller at this hotel now. I stood and surveyed my land. Large, well lit bedroom, walk in closet. I walked over to the bathroom, ready to see what I had gotten. A large bath tub greeted me with pristine white tiles. I almost wept. This was some kind of beauty. If only this could be my home away from home.

"Are you excited to see what they did to our opera?" Blaise had been busy kicking off his shoes; one thumped to the floor, then the other.

"It's not our opera… is it?" I turned and nodded. "But it can't be. It's not the same name."

"They shut it down for a while, when they reopened it, they had changed the name to Opera Garnier, because they figured that the Opera Populaire was cursed." Blaise clenched and unclenched his jaw, something he had come to do when he was thinking.

"Is this a bad idea? Are we testing fate?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Fate's a dimestore bitch with a bad haircut, don't listen to a word she says. Besides, we signed contracts, we have to do it." He groaned, falling back on my perfectly puffed pillows and complimentary chocolate. "Come on, Monsieur Phantom, it'll be fun."

"I'm not so sure about that, Madame Daae; last time I was in Paris I died. And I bet they're doing my riggings all wrong." He added petulantly. I went and sat next to him.

"They're not your riggings anymore, you've immigrated to the stage." I kissed him on the cheek, trying to lessen his frown.

"Fine. But I am so checking them. Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course you are. Fine, but I get to be big spoon." We shuffled our clothes off, brushed our teeth, and went to bed. I'd be lying if I didn't say I pressed my frozen feet to the back of his legs.

My heart was hammering in my chest. I looked up at the impressive visage of of the once Opera Populaire. I suppose the unpaved streets made it look more impressive back 100 years ago. My God, what would these halls say if they could talk. Where the stables were, now there is a loading zone. Where there were once flames, now there are beautiful walls. Antiques, they called them. I reached out for Blaise's hand and grabbed it.

"You were right, this is a bad idea," I said. Blaise nodded, in reverence of the massive opera house we had both once left behind. "I can't believe that you never came back here after you remembered who you were."

"Well, I didn't want to go back to an Opera house that didn't have anyone I loved still in it." Blaise had told me that he always had remembered who he was when he was growing up. His memories had come gradually through the years, only remembering his death around age 15. He remembered me next to him. What a nightmare to wake up from. And he was like six years older than me. When he remembered who I was, he was already too late to stop what my father did to me; he said that it was his greatest regret.

"I wonder if we could get down to Erik's lair." The boat would surely a rotted memory on the lake bottom by now. Oh God, would we have to swim? I don't even know where that water _comes_ from, I don't want to swim in it.

"Wouldn't we have to swim to it or something?" Blaise said, echoing my thoughts.

"Not unless we sneak a kayak down there or something." Blaise smothered a laugh.

"Well, we can figure something out. I mean, we're hot and smart; we could probably do whatever we wanted if we put our minds to it." He tried to pump himself up.

"Yeah, except go into an old opera house." We both looked up at the Populaire with dread. Blaise groaned in frustration.

"We're stupid."

"Yup."

"Moronic."

"Yup."

"Completely masochistic."

"Oh yeah."

"Ready?"

"Not at all. Let's roll." I squeezed his hand and marched forward. This was going to be hard. And I think I might throw up.

Though the doors we met a stage hand that was sent to meet us. The entrance was as grand as I remembered it. More so because of the electricity. So many memories came flooding back to me; ending up here, meeting Erik, dancing at the masquerade, the opera burning. The ghosts of those memories walked the halls, almost blinding me to what was happening in front of me. I focused hard on the man standing in front of me.

"Please come this way, everyone is assembling on the stage for pre-production. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to them." We smiled and followed him, both of us desperately trying to keep the ghosts of our lost loved ones from preventing us to work.

The stage looked like it had over a hundred years ago. Even the actors milling around talking to each other reminded me of all the people I left behind years ago. I dug my nails into Blaise's hand as we walked up, reminding him not to let them see how much this was affecting us. I put on my best showman's smile.

"Hello everyone, it's so wonderful to see all of you again." Blaise echoed me, and everyone was put at ease. I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept wandering to everything else. I wonder if we're going to sing today, or are we just going the introduced to our new surroundings. I looked over at Blaise. He was looking up into the riggings and frowning. I looked up too. There was someone tying a knot and walking away. Before I could stop him, Blaise stood up and began yelling.

"Hey, you donkey-monkey! That's not how you tie a bowline! Do you want that to come crashing down on us?" I stared at him blankly. I couldn't even tell what it was attached to. Silently I reached up, grabbed his shoulder and sat him down. The knot-tier sheepishly went back and fixed his knots. "That's right, you fix those sloppy knots! Remember: a good knot is all the difference between an actor and a man with a dented-in head. Don't make me come up there to check those for you!" Blaise threatened. I let my face fall into my hands. He looked back to his work and saw that everyone was looking at him.

"I tried to stop you," I said as I looked down at my own script, already thick with the notes I'd been making for the last months. Blaise lowered his eyes to his script, pretending to look at the direction. I mouthed 'sorry' to the rest of the cast and the humiliated man above. We went through the staging a few times on stage, not singing yet. At the end of the day we were all being ushered to the door.

"Hey Blaise, wait." I caught him by the arm and we hung back, walking slowly, trying to not attract attention. He looked at me, not knowing where I was going with this. "Do you think we could try searching the catacombs?" His eyes widened before he looked around, conspiratorially.

"How'll we ditch the bodyguards?" I snapped my fingers and rushed to the side and through a doorway while no one was looking, dragging Blaise behind me.

"Come on, I know all the ways down and all of the Phantom's tricks. I just… need to see it." He nodded, understandingly. If anyone knew what I was going through, it was Blaise.

"Okay, let's do this crazy biz. Lead the way." I pulled him along behind me, somewhat afraid that he would get lost and I would turn around and he'd be gone, never to be found again.

I lead us down the long spiral staircase, the scraps of banners from long forgotten shows still littering the walls. I kept close to the railing and skipped the steps that chad been turned into boobytraps. Walking down takes forever, and I have no idea how we would've made it without our cell phone lights. After a while we got to the dock.

"Time to strip down and swim from here?" Blaise looked in the water, not impressed with the greenish cast.

"Drop something in, see how deep it is." He looked scandalized.

"Like what? My phone?" He said in his sarcastic voice. I looked around, seeing nothing that could be use as a measuring device. Seeing no other option, I stripped off my socks, shoes, and pants. Blaise looked horrified. "You're not going in there." It was more of a statement. I tied up my hair in a bun, squirming my toes.

"I have to." I tensed all my muscles and slid into the water. I jumped as the water swallowed me up to the bottoms of my breasts. "Chilly underboob!" I held my light high above my head, thankful that my hair was up. I felt a disturbance in the water next to me, I looked around and saw Blaise with a supreme frown on his face, pantsless next to me. "Ready?" He gave me a look, clearly displeased.

We walked on, phones shining light off the water around the cavern. It was nothing like I remembered. With Erik, it had seemed like someone was caring for it, but now it seemed abandoned and creepy. I walked the directions my body could never forget, despite never walking before. It took about ten minutes of walk wading until we saw the portcullis. I felt a lump rise in the back of my throat. It was up, rusted into position. The dark pit beyond seemed to swallow up our lights and turn the beams to nothing. We walked up the bank, almost banging into some candelabras. I found an ancient match and lit all the candles I could before turning back to face Erik's home. Everything was in disarray, covered in dust and cobwebs thick enough to hold back a human hand. I lifted a bright candelabra in front of me trying to survey the scene best I could. Blaise looked incredibly fascinated, reading the few musical pieces that were left on the once shining oak desk. The mirrors were still smashed but the curtain was pulled back and the emergency exit was left a black, ominous passage. I started to shake. I walked up to what had been Erik's bedroom. It was an even worse state than the other part. It looked like someone had left in a hurry and never come back. I started crying. I had loved this place, why did it have to turn out so horrible? What did I do to deserve this?

"Erik." I called through sobs. "Erik, come back. Come back to me." I knew Blaise could hear me, but he knew me well enough to know that I wanted to cry this out alone. "Erik." I called again, looking at the beautiful swan bed I once dreamed we could share. But I'd always known that it would be nothing but a dream. "Je t'aime, Erik. Je t'aime tellement." I sat, in my underpants on the cold, hard ground and wept like I wouldn't allow myself to until now with his voice ringing in my ears, calling my name.

ERIK

Another Aria. Another sleepless night with a heart of nothing but ice and emptiness. Another night with nothing but the memory of her voice to keep me company. I felt gutted and empty all over, my pain would usually give my music wings, but now it only makes ungodly noise upon an instrument that I once loved. I pushed the music sheets away from me, not even enough heart to fly into a rage. I couldn't write music, I could hardly manage my opera. What was I good for then?

"Danielle." If she were here could tell me, she could show me. She would never let me feel as useless as I felt now. My beautiful Danielle.

"Erik." I hear a voice. Her voice. Like the crack of a whip I pull myself up. After all this time I know my delusions from reality. "Erik." She called for me again, water in her voice. Had she been crying. I ran to the bedroom, where it was coming from. There she stood, near naked from the waist down and soaking wet. And crying. My heart snapped.

"Danielle." I fell to my knees and reached for her, but my arms went right through her. I tried again with the same effect. "So close, yet so far. This must truly be hell, where I cannot even comfort my love." She sobbed on.

"Erik, come back. Come back to me." She called to me.

"I am here my love, I am here." I called back. She slid to the ground in front of me, becoming so small so fast.

"Je t'aime, Erik. Je t'aime tellement." She looked right at me, yet right through me.

"I love you too, my Angel. I love you," I said, helpless to comfort the ghost of my grieving love.

**Yep. I'm back. For now. I know I promise to regularly upload a lot, so I'm not going to now. I've got a new job and every day I'm not at school I'm at work. I finished this chapter after not sleeping for 28 hours, so this is the best I got. I hope you haven't given up on me because I'll never stop writing this story, not before it's done. Well, Enjoy, I certainly did.**


End file.
